


Put Your Spear Beside Mine

by queenofkadara



Series: Team Hailfire: Aloy & Ikrie [1]
Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Aloy having feelings for the first time, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Ikrie's backstory, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara
Summary: An arrow suddenly sprouted from the eyes of the nearest Lancehorn, destroying the machine in a shower of sparks and glass, and Ikrie looked up in alarm.A small figure leapt down into the valley: an outlander about Ikrie’s age, with shockingly red hair and a Banuk bow in hand.For the first time in days, Ikrie smiled.*****************This is a friendship/romance fic centered around Aloy and Ikrie, i.e. the two coolest hunters in all the known world. Events take place post-main game and during The Frozen Wilds, and will continue beyond canon.





	1. Outlander

**9 years old…**

_Quiet now. Quiet, quiet…_

Ikrie bit her lip hard to stop herself from laughing. Two rabbits hung from her belt already; she just needed one more in order to win the bet. She had to keep her giggling under control if she wanted to shoot straight. 

But Mailen’s shocked expression kept popping into her head. Ikrie snickered softly, then pressed her lips together. Ikrie’s helmet was still askew from when Mailen had pounced on her in retaliation, but it was worth it to hear Mailen’s squeal of indignation when Ikrie had shoved that snowball down her trousers. 

A very subtle movement to Ikrie’s left drew her attention, and all amusement slipped away as she spotted her prey: a white rabbit, almost completely hidden by the snow. 

But no rabbit could stay hidden forever from Ikrie’s sharp eyes. 

She silently drew an arrow and nocked it, then took aim… and the rabbit’s ears twitched in her direction. The rabbit suddenly leapt away, but Ikrie wasn’t discouraged: she adjusted her aim and shot, and the rabbit’s snow-white fur was marked with a triumphant spot of red as the arrow hit home. 

Ikrie stood up and grinned. “Mailen!” she bellowed. “I’m done!” She trotted over to the rabbit and pulled the arrow out, then wiped it in the grass before returning it to her quiver.

“You’re lying!” Mailen’s reply echoed over to her, and Ikrie laughed loudly, then held up her last rabbit. “I never lie. _And_ I never lose.” 

Mailen finally appeared with two rabbits hanging from her waist. She groaned in dismay as she inspected Ikrie’s three rabbits. “How do you always win? It’s so unfair.”

Ikrie stretched her arms leisurely and grinned at her friend. “It’s not unfair. I’m just the best huntress in all the land.” 

Mailen shot her a cynical look and shoved her. “Not to mention humble and quiet,” Mailen retorted, but her lips were pulled up in a smile. Then she sighed in resignation. “All right, I guess I’m roasting your meat tonight.” 

Ikrie raised her eyebrows. “ _Tonight?_ Nice try. Our bet was for a week!”

Mailen’s jaw dropped. “A _week?_ Was not!” 

Ikrie laughed. “Now who’s the liar? You’re cooking my food for a week. You said it yourself.” 

Mailen shoved her again. “There’s no way I’d agree to that!”

“You did too!” Ikrie picked up a handful of snow and whipped it at Mailen’s face, and Mailen immediately retaliated by flinging an armful of snow at Ikrie. Moments later, they were grappling in the snowdrifts as Mailen pulled off Ikrie’s helmet and tried to force a handful of frozen white powder into Ikrie’s hood.

“Stop! Stop! Okay, I’m lying!” Ikrie yelled, wiggling fitfully as Mailen seated herself firmly on Ikrie’s back and hauled her hood back. “The bet was for a day! You’re right!” She shrieked with laughter as Mailen finally succeeded in shoving a snowball against her neck. 

“Ikrie! _Mailen!_ ”

Immediately Mailen’s weight left Ikrie’s back as she stood up. Ikrie rose more slowly, scraping futilely at the inside her hood before facing Mailen’s father, Tiluk. 

He glared down at the two girls. “You’re meant to be hunting, not playing.” 

“We are,” Ikrie replied pertly. She pointed to the rabbits she and Mailen had captured and abandoned in the snow, but Mailen elbowed her sharply, and she closed her mouth.

Tiluk continued to frown at them in silence until Ikrie dropped her eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet but hard. “Banuk hunters do not make noise. They do not _play_. Survival is not a game. Do you understand?”

Mailen nodded silently, but Tiluk’s eyes were on Ikrie. He stared at her until she finally nodded as well, then picked up the rabbits and took Mailen’s arm. He berated Mailen quietly as he pulled her back towards the camp. “You two are the last children to return. If this was a true hunt and not an exercise, your werak would leave you behind.” 

Ikrie picked up her helmet, then trailed after Tiluk and Mailen with a sigh. Once they’d reached the camp, Tiluk released Mailen’s arm and jerked his chin towards the practice target. “Now practice. Both of you.” He shot Ikrie a forbidding glance, then walked away to supervise the other children. 

Mailen obediently pulled out her bow and aimed at the target, but Ikrie groaned. “This is so _boring,_ ” she complained. “How are we gonna get better if we don’t practice on moving targets? We need to go out with the real hunters.”

“We can’t, remember? Thanks to _you._ ” Mailen’s voice was stern, but Ikrie could see the little smirk at the corner of her lips as she shot the target perfectly. 

“Come on, that was an accident!” Ikrie protested. “And it showed that my traps work! And that hunter was only attacked by a Watcher! _And_ he was fine. I could have taken it on myself.” She kicked a stray pebble resentfully. “They’re just punishing me to be mean.”

Mailen lowered her bow in exasperation. “A Watcher is three times bigger than you. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Okay, fine, not me alone,” Ikrie conceded. “But you and me together…?” Ikrie waggled her eyebrows and elbowed her best friend. 

Mailen finally smiled, but rolled her eyes. “We’re not strong enough yet. We need to keep training.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Ikrie said dismissively. What she didn’t tell Mailen was that she often snuck out of their tent at night to go hunting on her own while Mailen was asleep. A few nights ago, she actually had taken down a Watcher all by herself with a combination of traps, freeze bombs and arrows. She’d been exhausted the next day and had needed to pretend she’d had nightmares to explain why she looked so tired, but how else was she going to truly learn to hunt unless it was with real targets and real danger? 

She looked at Mailen confidently. “We’ll be the best hunters when we’re grown up. We can do anything, Mailen. The White Teeth will beg us to join them someday, you’ll see.”

Mailen’s eyebrows lifted with longing. The White Teeth were her heroes. She sighed, then turned determinedly back to the practice target. “Only if I get better,” she said. She threw Ikrie a slightly envious look as she shot another arrow. “I wish I was as good as you. You’re so lucky.”

Ikrie shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess the Blue Light gave me a gift,” she quipped, then grinned as Mailen stuck her tongue out. Ikrie felt bad sometimes for not telling Mailen about her nighttime hunts, but she didn’t want to get Mailen in trouble. Ikrie didn’t care what Mailen’s parents thought of her; they were already annoyed at having to raise a second child after Ikrie’s own parents had left her when she was a baby. But Mailen wanted to make her parents happy. If Ikrie was going to break the rules, she didn’t want to drag Mailen down with her. 

She idly watched Mailen shooting arrows for a while, then pointed at Mailen’s foot. “Your foot’s crooked.”

Mailen lowered her bow, then smacked Ikrie’s lopsided helmet. “Your _head’s_ crooked.”

Ikrie kicked Mailen’s foot, then snickered as Mailen tried to pinch her arm. 

“ _Ikrie._ ” 

A sudden dull pain sliced across the backs of Ikrie’s thighs as Tiluk smacked her legs with his spear. He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Mailen. “I lose more patience every day with your foolishness,” he snapped. He positioned her in front of a practice target about twenty paces away from Mailen, then crouched in front of her and looked her in the eye. 

“You’re a strong hunter for a child. But you are selfish,” he told her firmly. “Mailen is weaker than you. Her instincts are duller. She will not become the hunter she needs to be if you continue this behaviour.”

Ikrie swallowed hard and dropped her eyes as Tiluk continued to speak. “Mailen needs to get stronger on her own. Your friendship will only distract her. Leaving a person alone can be the best way to encourage their survival. That’s what your parents did by leaving you with us.” 

Ikrie scowled and roughly wiped away the tear that rolled down her face, but the lump in her throat stopped her from speaking. Tiluk gazed sternly at her for another moment, then stood and jerked his chin at the target. “Now practice. _Quietly._ ” Then he walked away. 

Ikrie bit her lip and kept her eyes on the ground until Tiluk was out of earshot. Then she pulled her bow from her back and began to shoot arrows at the target, pretending it was Tiluk’s big, stupid face that she was shooting.

A few arrows later, she glanced at Mailen to find Mailen watching her worriedly. Mailen raised her eyebrows questioningly. 

Ikrie forced herself to smile, then stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes. Mailen grinned, and Ikrie’s face relaxed into a genuine smile as both girls obediently returned to their target practice.

Tiluk thought he was _so_ smart just because he was a grown-up. But Ikrie didn’t care what he said. Mailen was her best friend - her only friend in the whole world. And nothing was going to pull them apart. 

*************************

**14 years old…**

Ikrie glanced worriedly at Mailen as they kneeled in front of the pyre. Mailen’s face was pale and drawn, but her expression was blank; her grief was evident only in the bags under her eyes and the slight uptilt of her eyebrows. 

The funeral rites had ended an hour ago. Everyone else had already drifted back to their regular activities; death was common among their people, and drawn-out grieving discouraged as it interfered with survival. But Mailen remained, and Ikrie would stay as long as Mailen was here.

Some time later, Ikrie tentatively reached out and took Mailen’s hand. She was relieved when Mailen squeezed her fingers in return. Mailen had been so quiet since the hunting incident yesterday; her stillness had been so brittle and icy, like a half-thawed pond, and Ikrie was uncertain how best to help her. 

Ikrie laced her fingers into Mailen’s and leaned into her shoulder. “How are you feeling?” she whispered. 

She watched as Mailen’s throat bobbed with the effort of swallowing. Then Mailen shook her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the flaming pyre. 

Ikrie watched her worriedly for a moment longer, then tugged gently at her hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a hike. We’ll go to your favourite spot near the Frostfangs.” 

Mailen squeezed her fingers more firmly, then finally spoke. “No. I need to hunt.” 

Ikrie tilted her head sadly. Mailen was the most determined and hard-working young hunter in the settlement. She rarely ever took a break from the hunt, and when Ikrie did manage to cajole her into going hiking or snowshoeing or swimming in the rainbow pools, she could tell how guilty Mailen felt for not working on her hunting skills. 

Ikrie slid her arm around Mailen’s shoulders. “Mailen… everything doesn’t have to be about the hunt. Being the best hunter isn’t the most important thing-”

Mailen suddenly knocked Ikrie’s arm away, and Ikrie recoiled in surprise at the sudden anger in Mailen’s blazing eyes. “You’re wrong,” she snapped. “It _is_ about the hunt. That’s what really matters. If my parents had been better hunters, if they hadn’t been so focused on trying to make _me_ be better, then that Scorcher, it…” She took a deep, shaky breath. 

“Hey,” Ikrie crooned. She stroked Mailen’s arm gently, then almost lost her balance as Mailen suddenly buried her face against Ikrie’s neck. Ikrie instantly wrapped her arms around Mailen’s shaking body and pressed her cheek against Mailen’s ear. She ignored the dampness of Mailen’s tears and ran her hand soothingly along her back. 

“They were proud of you. I know they were,” Ikrie whispered. Mailen gave a bitter little laugh against her neck, and Ikrie squeezed her more tightly. “Besides, _I’m_ proud of you,” Ikrie added. “You’re a great hunter. You’ll join the White Teeth someday. I know it. You and me together, we can do anything.”

Mailen’s arms tightened around Ikrie’s waist. “But Father, he… He always said the law of survival…” 

“I don’t care about that,” Ikrie interrupted. “I really don’t. We have each other. That’s what we need to survive.”

Mailen was silent for a long time, her breath warm against Ikrie’s neck. When the tension of Mailen’s body finally began to dissolve, Ikrie pressed a gentle kiss to Mailen’s cheek. “Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s go on that hike. Okay?”

Mailen shook her head, then lifted her face from Ikrie’s neck and wiped her face briskly. “No,” she said again. “I need to hunt. Really. It’s the only way…” She sighed, then stared frankly at Ikrie. “I have to do this. I have to be better.” 

Ikrie gazed back at her hopelessly, but didn’t try to contradict her. Mailen was incredibly stubborn, and Ikrie could tell from the look on Mailen’s face that she wouldn’t be budging this time. 

Mailen rose to her feet, and Ikrie rose as well. “I’m coming with you,” Ikrie said.

Mailen hesitated, and Ikrie reached out and took her hand. “I know you think you need to practice alone. I _know_ ,” she said. “But…” 

_I want to be here for you._ The words sat at the tip of Ikrie’s tongue, but she forced herself to hold them back. Mailen was self-conscious about being a burden, and it made Ikrie’s heart hurt; Mailen was a strong and capable hunter, and she didn’t seem to see it. But the support that Ikrie was offering now had nothing to do with hunting prowess. She gazed steadily at Mailen, hoping that Mailen would see the promise in her eyes. 

Finally Mailen nodded and offered Ikrie a small smile. Ikrie smiled back with no small amount of relief and followed Mailen back to their tent to grab their hunting gear. 

Mailen might think she wasn’t strong, but Ikrie knew different. And she’d always be there to remind Mailen of her worth.

*********************  
**19 years old…**

“No. No! I’ll do it myself!”

Ikrie flinched away from Mailen’s wildly swinging arm and tried to slide a metal strut under her broken leg. “You can’t,” Ikrie snapped. “You need to sit still. Let me just-” 

“ _No!_ ” Mailen yelled, and Ikrie looked around worriedly. Mailen’s shouting was going to attract machine attention, and Ikrie wasn’t sure if she’d be able to defend Mailen against a group of machines on her own. More importantly, if Mailen kept thrashing around, she was going worsen her injury. 

Mailen shoved at her, and finally Ikrie held her hands up in defeat and sat back on her heels. “Fine, fine,” she said soothingly. “You try.” 

Mailen breathed heavily as she leaned forward and reached for the the metal strut. Her cheeks were flushed and sickly, and Ikrie inhaled slowly through her nose to quell her rising panic. _I should have gotten her back down the mountain right after this happened,_ she thought for the hundredth time. If only she’d talked Mailen around instead of going along with what Mailen wanted to do! But Mailen had been so damn insistent on finishing this damned ordeal for the damned White Teeth. It was either do as Mailen wanted or leave her to finish the ordeal alone, and the latter choice was _never_ an option that Ikrie would choose. 

But Mailen was feverish now. The delirium had set in yesterday morning, and was only getting worse. Mailen wouldn’t let Ikrie examine her broken leg, but Ikrie was certain the leg was infected or bleeding on the inside. Or both. 

Mailen’s hands trembled as she reached for the cords that would tie the strut to her leg. She tried to grasp one cord, but her vision seemed clouded: she missed the cord, grabbing instead at thin air, then hissed in frustration before leaning back against the wall of the small ice cave where Ikrie had dragged her three days ago. 

Ikrie sat silently, watching Mailen’s chest rise and fall with laborious breaths. Then Ikrie spoke very quietly. “May I tie the splint?”

Mailen took a deep breath, and Ikrie braced herself for the onslaught. Sure enough, Mailen yelled, “ _No._ The law of survival says I have to do this _alone_. You shouldn’t even be here. I shouldn’t have let you come.”

Ikrie bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Slowly she shuffled over to sit beside Mailen and leaned back against the wall of the cave. 

The two women were silent for a long time. The sound of Mailen’s laboured breathing was largely disguised by the howling wind, but Ikrie’s anxious ears picked up every inhalation. Finally Mailen broke the silence. “You shouldn’t be here. You could die.” 

“So could you,” Ikrie retorted quietly, and Mailen swelled with fresh indignation. “I _need_ to do this!” she snapped furiously. “I’ll survive this, and then I’ll be a runner with the White Teeth, and then everyone will see-” She broke off with a gasp of pain and grabbed convulsively at her thigh. 

Ikrie couldn’t help herself. Mailen’s agony was setting her teeth on edge. “Mailen, just let me-”

“I told you, _no!_ ” Mailen yelled hoarsely. “I don’t need you to do everything for me. I don’t _need_ you. My father was right. You’re just getting in my way.” 

Ikrie sat back again and closed her eyes to force back the tears that were threatening to spill over. There was a cold ball of pain in her chest that had been growing for years, formed around the seed of Mailen’s zealous obsession with the White Teeth and that damn cursed law of survival. With every year that had gone by, Mailen had pushed Ikrie away a little more, distancing herself from Ikrie in favour of the hunt and preferring tales of the White Teeth’s deeds over Ikrie’s jokes. With every cold moment of scorn and every refusal to spend time together, another suffocating layer was added to the chill in Ikrie’s chest until it felt like there was a hideous lump of ice there instead of a heart.

 _She’s just delirious,_ Ikrie told herself. _She doesn’t mean it._ But Ikrie was losing conviction in her own words. At this moment, in this cave with Mailen’s contemptuous dismissal ringing in her ears, the ball of ice in her chest felt ready to burst. 

Finally Ikrie rose to her feet. “I’m hungry,” she lied. “I’m going to hunt. I’ll be back.” 

Mailen grunted a confirmation, and Ikrie left the cave without another word. 

Quietly but swiftly she climbed out of the shallow valley, then made her way along the path down the Icefather. She had no real destination in mind; she didn’t want to stray too far from Mailen, but being in that cave surrounded by the ugly cloud of Mailen’s rejection was more than Ikrie could bear. 

Soon she came upon a pack of Lancehorns. Swiftly she crept into the long grass and eyed the machines’ horns covetously. The feeble metal strut under Mailen’s leg was the only piece of metal Mailen had been able to grab, but if Ikrie brought her a good, strong Lancehorn’s horn, then maybe…

 _Maybe she’ll hate me even more,_ Ikrie thought bitterly. A pang of bitterness squeezed her throat. _Maybe I really shouldn’t have come on this trial with her. I don’t even care about the stupid White Teeth._ But Ikrie couldn’t let Mailen do this alone. Ever since they’d been small, Ikrie had promised Mailen she’d be by her side every step of the way. 

But now, crouched alone in the grass staring at a pack of Lancehorns, Ikrie prodded ruthlessly at a truth that she’d been pushing away for years. _Things aren’t like they used to be. She doesn’t want me by her side every step of the way._ And yet Ikrie continued to follow Mailen across Ban-Ur and into the Cut, waiting passively for a shard of Mailen’s attention… 

She bit her lip hard, wishing the sting pain in her lip could erase the ache behind her sternum. In some small part of her mind, she’d known what this ordeal would mean. She’d known that when - not if, but _when_ \- Mailen joined the White Teeth, she would sunder herself from Ikrie for good. But Ikrie hadn’t been able to stop herself from following the only person she’d ever loved, even if it meant Mailen would leave her behind. 

Now Mailen was injured, and pushing Ikrie away more vociferously than she ever had before. And Ikrie felt powerless to help. 

_Curse the White Teeth. Curse the stupid law of survival, and all of Ban-Ur and all their stupid, backwards ways. If it wasn’t for them, Mailen would be fine,_ Ikrie thought furiously. Fury was good. Fury would propel her into action. Sadness could come later, when Mailen was safe.

Ikrie unhooked her sling from her waist, then aimed an icebomb at the herd. She waited until the machines were clustered close together, then hit them with a swift barrage of icebombs. She bolted from the grass and began slamming her spear into the machines’ eyes one by one. 

An arrow suddenly sprouted from the eyes of the nearest Lancehorn, destroying the machine in a shower of sparks and glass, and Ikrie looked up in alarm. 

A small figure leapt down into the valley: a woman about Ikrie’s age, with shockingly red hair and a Banuk bow in hand. She wore strange armour that glittered and rippled with light, and Ikrie stared in wonder; she’d never seen anything like it before. 

The strange outlander shoved her hair back impatiently, revealing a stern expression and sharp hazel eyes. She approached Ikrie without hesitation, her gaze darting over Ikrie’s body as though she was scanning for injuries.

Finally the outlander met Ikrie’s eyes and tilted her head quizzically. “Are you all right?” she asked. 

_Am I all right?_ It was freezing cold, and Ikrie’s boots weren’t keeping her feet warm anymore. Ikrie and Mailen had been in these mountains for three days, and Mailen had been screaming vitriol at her for two of them. Before this, she’d spent years trailing in Mailen’s wake, waiting in vain for her rare flashes of affection, clutching those moments close like flames in the night. 

Ikrie took a deep breath and stared back at the outlander. The outlander’s face was serious, but her eyes were deep and warm with compassion. 

For the first time in days, Ikrie smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of housekeeping:
> 
> 1\. I haven't decided yet whether there will be smut in this fic. SHOCKING, I know, for those of you who have read any of my other work. The fic rating will change as content is added.  
> 2\. I also haven't entirely decided how this fic will end. This is the first time I've written something without a clear endpoint, so please bear with me!  
> 3\. No clear update schedule here. Probably once or twice a week?
> 
> Thanks for anyone who has popped in to read! xoxo


	2. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Canon events from Ikrie’s sidequest (The Survivor). For those who have read What Else Matters, I hope you don’t mind reading about this sidequest again - but through Ikrie’s eyes this time.

The outlander gazed at Ikrie expectantly, but Ikrie wasn’t sure how to answer. She definitely wasn’t _all right_ , but now wasn’t the time to explain why. So she deflected the question instead. 

She gave the redheaded newcomer an appraising smile. “An outlander, huh? Well, who else would join me on this path I’ve taken?”

The outlander frowned. “Which path would that be?”

 _Good question,_ Ikrie thought with a pang of bitterness. She’d followed Mailen into this ordeal without thinking about what would come after; had actively avoided thinking about it, in fact, pushing away that insidious and _logical_ part of her mind that had hissed that this trial would not end in happiness for her. 

But now, Mailen’s illness - and her wholehearted rejection - had brought that brutally logical part of Ikrie’s mind to the fore, and she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. Mailen didn’t want her anymore; hadn’t wanted her for years, really. But Ikrie had never felt at home with anyone else in Ban-Ur, so going back to Ban-Ur on her own after this ordeal was going to feel uncomfortably like defeat.

When this trial was over, where _was_ Ikrie going to go?

“Away from tradition,” she blurted. “Away from the werak.” She shrugged casually as though the words weren’t a shard of ice in her heart. “It’s not so-”

A grinding screech interrupted her, and she and the outlander both whipped around as a pack of Scrappers prowled into the valley, their headlights glowing a malevolent red. 

Ikrie hissed in frustration. “Damn. They need the metal too, but my need is greater.” Ikrie _wanted_ those damn Lancehorn antlers for a splint.

The outlander turned to Ikrie, and Ikrie felt a flash of surprise at the anger in the redhead’s face. Her eyes crackled with ferocity, a perfect match to her glittering armour. “I was told the Banuk don’t accept help. Is it true?” she snapped.

Ikrie raised one eyebrow curiously at the venom in the outlander’s tone. “ _They_ don’t. _I_ do,” she retorted.

The outlander suddenly grinned. A strange jolt tugged at Ikrie’s chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. The jolt was an oddly familiar but half-forgotten feeling, like hearing an old but beloved song many years later.

The outlander’s grin disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she jerked her chin silently towards the pack of Scrappers. Ikrie nodded briefly, then bolted towards the Scrappers side-by-side with her new redheaded compatriot. 

The outlander was _good_. Ikrie watched from the corner of her eye as the outlander dodged and rolled smoothly, then focused her spear thrusts on the Scrappers’ weak spots, taking each Scrapper out with a bare minimum of hits. 

Between the two huntresses, the Scrapper pack was destroyed in a matter of minutes. Ikrie panted and smirked approvingly at her new comrade. Ikrie might not agree with her people about most things, but she was like any other Banuk in her appreciation of the hunt, and this outlander’s skill was undeniable. 

An ominous shadow in the sky to the west suddenly drew Ikrie’s attention, and she curled her lip in disgust as she eyed the approaching Glinthawks. “Look sharp, outlander, there’s more of them,” she called out.

“No kidding,” the redhead replied, and Ikrie glanced over to see a fresh pack of Scrappers approaching from the east. Ikrie laughed; it was either that or scream in frustration, and she might as well save her breath. 

She eyed the outlander’s Banuk bow speculatively, then gestured at the Glinthawks. “Do you want to-”

“How about you-” The outlander spoke and gestured at the pack of Scrappers at the same time, and Ikrie grinned. “Let’s do it,” she confirmed, and the two women swiftly traded positions so Ikrie could focus on the Scrappers with her sling while the outlander took on the Glinthawks with her bow. 

Again, Ikrie watched the outlander surreptitiously while she fought the Glinthawks. At one point, the outlander slid in the snow while simultaneously shooting a Glinthawk directly in the chillwater canister on its chest, and Ikrie shook her head in admiration. 

Together, Ikrie and the outlander swiftly eliminated the scavenging machines. Ikrie finally racked her spear on her back, then raised her chin and smiled in genuine welcome at the outlander. 

“You fight well,” Ikrie said. She gestured to herself. “I’m Ikrie.”

The outlander nodded politely. “Thank you. I’m Aloy.” She shook her flame-red hair back with one hand and tilted her head curiously. “I heard the White Teeth were missing two hunters. You look like you could leave if you wanted to, so…?”

Ikrie lifted her eyebrows slightly in surprise. She’d heard that cocky foreigners sometimes travelled to the Cut in search of adventure and hunting trophies, but it seemed that Aloy really was just here to help.

“I stayed because of the other,” Ikrie explained. “Mailen. She snapped her leg descending the ice. I’ve bided my time keeping vigil, but…” She sighed. “Now she must return to the werak before they leave.” 

Aloy frowned. “Is joining the White Teeth that important to you?”

Ikrie shrugged casually. “It’s one of the great weraks of Ban-Ur. Not so many great ones left now.”

Aloy tilted her head, and Ikrie suddenly felt naked under Aloy’s piercing but compassionate gaze. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken the time to really _look_ at her, to ask her a real question, and all of a sudden Ikrie was sick of pretending everything was fine. 

“I would go where Mailen went,” she admitted bluntly. “I was her shadow on the snow, and she was mine. To be a runner with the White Teeth was everything to her.” 

Aloy’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You know this Mailen well?” she asked tactfully. 

Ikrie smiled bitterly. “Since our knees were always skinned: all my life. In a test to prove that we only need ourselves…” She sighed and rubbed her face. “That was my weakness.”

Aloy narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like she was lucky for your ‘weakness’.”

Ikrie shook her head slightly. “That’s not the way she sees it.” She glanced worriedly in the direction of the valley where Mailen lay. It had been a while since she’d left her...

Aloy folded her arms and eyed Ikrie, and again Ikrie was seized by the sense that Aloy was hearing more than just her words. “Mailen won’t let you help her, will she? Because of the rules of this test,” Aloy said flatly.

Ikrie smiled ruefully. “You’re quick as a rockfall.”

Aloy shook her head and raised her eyebrows. “No, I’m just used to being told what’s forbidden to me.”

Ikrie examined Aloy’s face more closely. This Nora girl had _stories_ ; her tone was too skeptical and her expression too world-weary for her not to. Ikrie’s curiosity was definitely piqued… but this wasn’t the time. She shook her head. “Mailen won’t allow any help. Won’t take the medicinal plants I found, or food; only what she can scrape up on hands and knees. I could get close when she was delirious, but now she’s learned not to let me get close.”

Ikrie suddenly stopped. _She’s learned not to let me get close._ The words had slipped from her mouth before she could stop to think about them, but now they hung in the air like firesmoke, clogging Ikrie’s throat with their brutal truth, and she dropped her eyes so Aloy wouldn’t see the tears clouding her vision.

“So let’s get her back to the werak,” Aloy replied. Her voice was businesslike, and Ikrie was grateful for her brusque tone; she swallowed hard, then lifted her face. “All right. I can make a splint for her leg from these Lancehorn antlers, and we have medicine for the pain, but I should warn you, she won’t take them willingly. The law of survival-”

Aloy’s face flared with anger again, and Ikrie recoiled slightly in alarm. “Tribal law shouldn’t keep us apart from the ones we care for,” Aloy spat. 

Ikrie couldn’t agree more, and her curiosity flared again at Aloy’s vehemence, but unfortunately her opinion wasn’t the one that mattered here. “Even if she cares more for the law?” Ikrie said softly. 

Aloy didn’t reply. Her face was pinched into an angry glare, but Ikrie didn’t mind; frankly, she was thankful for Aloy’s attitude. They barely knew each other, but already Ikrie was getting the sense of a kindred spirit in this hot-tempered redhead. 

“Come,” Ikrie said, and together they ran towards the icy ridge that bordered the valley, then clambered up the handholds and ran up along the path towards Mailen. They slid into a patch of grass overlooking the shallow valley, and Ikrie’s heart leapt into her throat: Mailen was slumped against the wall of the cave, and three Longlegs were prowling the vicinity.

Ikrie pointed to the cave with one shaking hand. “There. She’s passed out again.”

“Between us, we can fight off the machines before they reach her,” Aloy replied confidently, and Ikrie smiled despite her anxiety. “Another tradition broken,” she quipped. 

Aloy raised one eyebrow and smirked. “Take it from me, it gets easier the more you do it.” 

Ikrie grinned; a kindred spirit indeed. Together she and Aloy leapt into the valley. 

Aloy slid into the long grass and pulled an arrow from her quiver, and Ikrie was momentarily distracted by the strangeness of her ammo: instead of an arrowhead, the arrow was tipped with three sharp prongs, and it flashed with a regular beat of light. 

Ikrie watched with wide eyes as Aloy shot three of these odd arrows in quick succession at each Longlegs. Seconds later, an explosive burst of light shattered the chest components of the metal birds. One Longlegs fell stunned to its side, and the other two staggered, all three machines sparking with damage. 

Ikrie beamed and firmly patted Aloy on the shoulder. “Amazing,” she stated. “Let’s finish them off.” She darted out of the grass and swiftly froze the three machines with her sling, then she and Aloy bolted towards the brittle machines and finished them off efficiently with their spears.

A hair-raising roar of metallic rage rent the air, and a chill of sheer dread rippled down Ikrie’s spine as she and Aloy turned towards the sound. Ikrie was already rifling in her medicine pouch before she even laid eyes on the Scorcher. She pulled out a small goat’s-bladder flask and thrust it towards Aloy. “Here,” she said. 

Aloy took the flask automatically, but stared at Ikrie in confusion. Hastily Ikrie explained, “Fire kiln extract.”

Aloy frowned more deeply, and it was Ikrie’s turn to stare at in bewilderment. Had Aloy never used fire kiln extract before? Ikrie rubbed her hands together impatiently. “Put it on your face and hands or you’ll get burnt,” she said. 

Aloy’s face cleared with comprehension, and she hastily followed Ikrie’s suggestion as Ikrie loaded her sling with ice bombs. Ikrie hurried towards the Scorcher; there was no point trying to hide as the Scorcher had already spotted them, so Ikrie wanted only to keep the horrific machine away from Mailen. 

She pelted it with a series of ice bombs, then watched in satisfaction as Aloy raced forward and expertly dodged a spurt of flame from the Scorcher’s mouth before shooting it with a barrage of arrows. Components and shards of metal flew from the Scorcher’s body in a satisfying shower of sparks.

The hoarfrost from Ikrie’s ice bombs began to melt from the Scorcher’s metal plates, so she followed up with a second set of bombs, then drew her spear and began to run towards the beast. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Aloy pelted towards one of the larger components that had been blasted from the Scorcher. 

Aloy lifted the component effortfully, then yelled to Ikrie. “No, step back! I’m going to shoot it with its own ammo!”

Ikrie’s jaw dropped. She’d taken down a Scorcher before with Mailen’s help, but this strategy hadn’t occurred to them. For some reason, the idea of using a Scorcher’s weapons against it seemed… mildly sacreligious? _Oh, who cares,_ Ikrie told herself impatiently as she scrambled to follow Aloy’s suggestion. All that mattered was felling the machine so they could tend to Mailen.

Ikrie watched with interest as Aloy pelted the frozen Scorcher with explosive ammo. Moments later, the Scorcher was nothing more than a twisted pile of sparking metal. 

Aloy dropped the mine launcher heavily and braced her hands on her knees to catch her breath, and Ikrie stared at the Scorcher’s remains with no small amount of satisfaction. She couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly she and Aloy had demolished so many machines. 

But there was no time to enjoy the spoils of their victory; Aloy lifted her face and nodded tiredly to Ikrie, and together they ran towards the shelter where Mailen lay.

Aloy slipped into the cave and silently took the Lancehorn antlers that Ikrie offered her, then immediately began binding them to Mailen’s leg. Ikrie bit her lip and clenched her fists as she watched Mailen’s face; if Mailen woke to find a foreigner tending to her wound… 

_She’s going to be furious,_ Ikrie thought regretfully. But that was too bad. If saving Mailen’s life came at the cost of sundering their relationship for good, then there was no choice. And besides, what difference would it really make? Mailen was angry at her already… 

Aloy gazed critically at Mailen, then stopped tying the splint and laid her fingers gently along Mailen’s flushed cheek. She looked up at Ikrie worriedly. “I can feel her fever even in this cold. She shouldn't have been putting weight on this leg.”

“ _She_ is awake.” Mailen shoved Aloy’s hand away from her face, then glared up at Ikrie. Her eyes were burning with fever and rage, and Ikrie’s throat swelled with sorrow. She couldn’t remember the last time Mailen had looked at her with anything resembling approval.

“This outlander… You brought her here, Ikrie?” Mailen grunted.

Ikrie swallowed hard and glared back at her. “You think I went to the Nora homelands to find a spear to drive between us?”

Mailen’s face crumpled into a snarl of rage. “I _told_ you the ordeal is mine and mine alone! I will survive-”

“Which would you rather keep, Mailen?” Aloy suddenly interrupted. “Your leg or your pride? Because I think you’re going to have to choose.”

Mailen closed her mouth and breathed heavily through her nose, then finally gestured roughly at her leg. “Finish it,” she snapped. She refused to look at Ikrie or Aloy. 

Aloy glanced very briefly at Ikrie before continuing with the splint, and Ikrie gazed back at her with abject gratefulness. 

The three women were silent while Aloy worked; even the wind had died down, leaving Mailen’s laboured exhales as the only sound. 

“I know what you think of me,” Ikrie told Mailen quietly. “But I vowed you’d join the White Teeth... and you will.” 

Mailen ignored her completely, and Ikrie bowed her head before turning away. Defensively she wrapped her arms around herself, but it wasn’t the cold she was trying to protect herself from; it was the inevitability of this moment. 

Ikrie had spent years supporting Mailen in every way she could. She’d been the shoulder for Mailen to secretly cry on after her parents had died. She’d crafted arrows for Mailen as she practiced archery, and she’d followed silently as Mailen hunted machines, swooping in to help whenever Mailen called her name. She’d followed Mailen across Ban-Ur in pursuit of bigger and more challenging machines to fight, providing backup to Mailen during the day and perfecting her own hunting skills at night while Mailen slept. Ikrie had never questioned her place at Mailen’s side; she was always happy to help, happy to be with Mailen, happy to support the person she loved more than anything. 

But somewhere along the way, Mailen had stopped seeing her… and then when Mailen did look at her, Ikrie knew that all Mailen saw was an obstruction. Ikrie had become a hindrance to Mailen’s hunt, an obstacle to her independent survival… but Ikrie hadn’t been able to step away. 

_She’s learned not to let me get close._ Ikrie’s own words rang in her ears, and she clenched her fingers in the fabric of her coat and hunched her shoulders miserably. Mailen was lost to her; she knew this now. There was nothing for her here anymore. 

In a few short minutes, Mailen was going to walk away from her. And this time, for her own good, Ikrie couldn’t follow. For years she’d been Mailen’s shadow. Who was Ikrie going to be without her?

A grunt of effort and a rustling sound from the ice shelter drew Ikrie’s attention, and she forced her face into a neutral expression before turning around. Mailen was on her feet, gingerly placing her weight on her splinted leg; Aloy hovered at her side, her hands extended slightly to support Mailen if needed. 

For the first time in what felt like hours, Mailen met Ikrie’s eyes. “I will go back. Alone.”

Ikrie knew this was coming. She knew, but it didn’t lessen the impact of Mailen’s icy words.

Ikrie bit the inside of her cheek and watched as Mailen pushed away from the side of the cave and took two faltering steps, then fell. She landed on her hands and her good hip with a grunt of pain, and Ikrie tasted blood as her teeth pierced her cheek. 

Immediately Aloy kneeled beside Mailen and took hold of her elbow, but Mailen shoved wildly at her. “No!” she shouted, and Aloy immediately backed away. “Let me do this!”

Aloy looked up at Ikrie incredulously, and Ikrie gazed dully back at her. “Please. Let her,” she whispered. There was no changing Mailen’s mind now. Allowing an outlander to help was her last straw.

Aloy huffed quietly, then slowly moved over to stand beside Ikrie. Together they watched as Mailen tremulously pushed herself to her feet, then began to slowly limp away. 

Ikrie clenched her fists and breathed slowly through the vice that was squeezing her chest. In every way that mattered, Mailen was the only person Ikrie had ever truly known. Mailen was her best friend, her family and her lover all in one fierce, proud package, and in the time it took for Mailen to leave her sight, all of that would be gone.

But this abandonment was more than that. In the rigid line of Mailen’s departing spine, Ikrie saw _everything_ she’d ever known leaving her behind. With every year that had passed, Mailen had become the consummate Banuk huntress, cold and stern, focused on survival. Ikrie, on the other hand, had never quite been able to get on board with tribal law. In Mailen’s slow but inexorable departure, Mailen was taking that life - that stern, strict upbringing - away with her as well. 

“Mailen,” a voice called. Ikrie realized belatedly that it was her own voice, clogged and hoarse with unshed tears. She cleared her throat. “I hope you can forgive me someday,” she rasped.

Mailen slowly turned to look at her, and Ikrie’s frozen heart shattered at the sheer _coldness_ in Mailen’s gaze. “I never accepted your help,” she replied in a flat voice, and Ikrie couldn’t decide if Mailen’s neutrality was worse than her yelling. “It’s the werak you should ask for forgiveness.”

Ikrie could feel her face crumpling with distress; she couldn’t help it. “I didn’t care about the werak,” she retorted, then clenched her jaw hard to hold back a sob. 

Mailen stared at her for another moment, then abruptly turned away and continued towards the path down the Icefather. A few long, painful minutes later, she was gone. 

The silence was deafening. All Ikrie could hear was her own shaky breaths, interrupted by the faintly blowing breeze through the long grass.

A gentle hand squeezed Ikrie’s shoulder, and she hastily wiped her face as Aloy murmured to her. “She’ll understand. You saved her life.”

Ikrie shook her head. “You don’t know the Banuk very well, Aloy,” she replied. Somehow she managed to muster up a smile as she looked into Aloy’s green-and-gold eyes. “We have so many ways to express a grudge, and only one to accept an apology.”

Aloy pursed her lips, but her eyebrows were lifted in a reflection of Ikrie’s sorrow. Ikrie dropped her gaze and looked unseeingly towards the horizon. “I have to go my own way,” she muttered. “I don’t belong with _them_ , who left her to die. And I don’t belong with…”

The misery she had tried so hard to quell finally choked her, and Ikrie let out a sudden sob. Aloy’s fingers tightened on her shoulder, and there was a crunching of snow as Aloy stepped closer to her. “Ikrie…” she whispered.

Ikrie turned away from Aloy in shame. She couldn’t decide if Aloy’s compassion soothed or chafed; Ikrie had never had anyone to witness her sadness before. She’d become so practiced at hiding her heartbreak from Mailen that it felt weird for Aloy to see it so openly. Aloy was hardly more than a stranger, after all. 

Ikrie straightened her shoulders and sniffed hard, then shook her head determinedly. “I’ll find a crack in this glacier, and I’ll shout my grief into it, and the ice can keep it forever,” she told Aloy. She was proud of the matter-of-fact tone to her voice. 

Aloy’s eyes shimmered with sympathy, but she nodded briskly. “What should I tell them? The werak?”

 _The bloody cursed werak._ A fresh surge of anger squeezed Ikrie’s throat, and she savoured it for a moment before replying. “Tell them that I fell. And that _she_ endured. Will you?”

Aloy nodded silently, then released Ikrie’s shoulder and stepped away. Awkwardly Ikrie stooped down and began collecting the meager resources that were scattered on the floor of the ice cave. 

Aloy continued to stand at the mouth of the cave, and eventually Ikrie looked up to find Aloy watching her carefully, her face still painted with sorrow. As their eyes met, Aloy spoke again. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” 

Ikrie waved her hand dismissively. “Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” Aloy had seen enough of her pain for one day; Ikrie didn’t want to put any more burden on her. She smiled faintly up at Aloy. “Maybe I’ll start a werak of my own,” she joked, then shrugged lightly. “But for now I’m a werak of one.” 

Aloy’s eyebrows contracted further with distress, and Ikrie bit her lip, then fastened her half-depleted healing pouch around her hips and stood. “Aloy… thank you,” she said softly. She shrugged. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.” 

Aloy nodded silently, then gazed at Ikrie for a moment longer before speaking again. “I hope so, Ikrie.” 

Ikrie gave Aloy one last half-smile and squeezed her elbow, then walked away. 

Ikrie made her way up along the undulating course of the Icefather. She wanted to find the highest, most desolate peak of this mountain where the glacier began; that was where she would leave her despair. 

It was late afternoon by the time Ikrie reached a perfect spot: a high, lonely peak, with a dark crevasse in the ice that was carved deeper with every spring’s meltwater. By this time, Ikrie was tired; she’d been too worried about Mailen these past few days to eat much. She dropped to her knees and gazed at the crevasse, then finally allowed the full extent of her grief to smash over her. 

Her chest was wracked with sobs, tears scalding her cheeks, and once she was able to take a deep breath, she did exactly as she’d told Aloy she would: she _screamed_ into the abyss, a howl of pure misery that echoed back into her own ears until her whole body was ringing with anguish.

Darkness was falling by the time Ikrie rose to her feet. Carefully she made her way down the path until she found a curve in the ridge of the mountain that would shield her from the wind. Ikrie dug a small burrow the snow, then wrapped herself in her bedroll and shimmied into the snowy burrow for the night. 

She lay awake in the dark for a long time, watching the clouds of her breath puff into the night sky. Her throat was raw from her screams, but her eyes were dry. Her chest felt oddly empty… but not in a bad way. 

In all her loneliness, with no one to follow and no stifling traditions to guide her, Ikrie was realizing an interesting truth: she was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will start to look up for Ikrie in the next chapter, I promise!


	3. Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter follows the end of the Survivor sidequest, and Ikrie’s Challenge. To those who have read What Else Matters, small portions of this are borrowed/adapted from that fic. SORRY for the repetition.

Aloy watched as Ikrie trudged away in the snow, her chest roiling with a mixture of anger and painful empathy. She waited until Ikrie’s silhouette disappeared in the snow haze, then headed down the mountain. Night was falling by the time Aloy reached the mountain’s base, so she set up the small tent she’d bought in Song’s Edge, then built a fire and huddled into her fox-fur blanket as she shivered in the firelight.

Aloy had been feeling uneasy ever since she’d set foot in Song’s Edge. At first she’d thought it was because the Banuk here were so _serious_. In all fairness, they had good reason to be; these lands were treacherous at the best of times from what she’d been told, and with the additional threat from this so-called Daemon, Aloy had stopped being annoyed when the Banuk hunters told her to go home.

But as Aloy spent more time in the Cut talking to the Banuk, the reason for her uneasiness had become clear: the Banuk here were very strict about this ‘law of survival’. It wasn’t that Aloy disagreed with the importance of survival per se; after all, Rost had been teaching her how to survive on her own since she was six, and she’d been living and travelling alone for over a year now. Survival wasn’t the problem; it was the way the Banuk talked about it, like survival was a sacred right somehow. 

_This_ was what infuriated Aloy: the idea that people need to prove themselves worthy of survival, of _life_ , by purposely putting themselves in danger. Aloy had seen enough senseless, needless deaths to last a lifetime. She would never forget the countless Nora dying during Helis’s attacks in the Sacred Lands, or the massive casualties after the Battles of HADES. It seemed that war was an unavoidable part of human life, with possibilities of death lurking in every battle. Was it really worth risking lives just for the sake of dogmatic cultural beliefs?

Aloy had been slowly adjusting to the fact that she just wouldn’t be seeing eye-to-eye with the Banuk. But then she’d met Ikrie and Mailen… and the law of survival had suddenly become personal. Ikrie’s anguished face kept flashing up in her mind, making her blood simmer with sympathetic rage. In Mailen’s cold departure, Aloy couldn’t help but hear echoes of Rost’s stern farewell before the Proving. 

Aloy knew the situation with Rost was different; she knew he hadn’t really left, that he’d been there to watch over her all along, but she would _never_ forget the crushing ache in her chest as she’d watched him walk away from her, his black feathered cape fluttering in the breeze like a flag of surrender. Aloy was ashamed to admit it, but there was a small corner of her heart that hadn’t yet forgiven Rost for walking away from her on the day of the Proving.

And this, truly, was the crux of the problem: the Cut reminded Aloy too much of being back in the Sacred Lands. The stifling insistence on overly-strict laws that forced people to place the law above the people they loved… it was uncomfortably familiar, chafing at her skin like a poorly-seasoned boot. Aloy was largely exempt from following the Nora’s strict laws now, but that was only because of her status as the so-called Anointed, and that came with its own special brand of awkwardness. 

Aloy sighed heavily, her frustration floating into the air in a crystalline puff of breath. She would _never_ understand the strange thinking that led people to throw aside the ones they loved for the sake of tribal law. 

Early the next afternoon, Aloy arrived at Keener’s Song. She dismounted her Charger easily and strode towards the White Teeth chieftain, and pretended not to notice the stares and whispers of the Banuk who were standing around the fire. _Let them stare,_ she told herself. Rumours of her machine prowess would eventually make their way back to Aratak, adding fuel to the fire of her challenge when she eventually threw her spear at his feet.

As Aloy approached the chieftain, she realized that Mailen was sitting nearby, her leg wrapped more securely around the Lancehorn antlers that Ikrie had salvaged. Aloy forced herself to ignore the instinctive jolt of dislike in her chest; she maintained a carefully neutral expression as she approached the White Teeth chieftain and the shaman. 

“Mailen has returned,” the chieftain announced as she approached. “I expect you have something to say about this?”

“I do,” Aloy said. She ignored the warning look that Mailen threw her. “I’m not up on all the Banuk traditions… but I do know that what matters to you is that your laws are upheld.” Aloy paused and shook her head slightly in disgust; this was so much like being back in the Sacred Lands. “Going by the rules of your ordeal, Mailen endured the four days and the four nights. She faced the extremes and survived. Seems to me that’s what you wanted.” 

The chieftain gazed at her approvingly. “Just so.” Then he tilted his head curiously. “You saw nothing of the other hunter? The one called Ikrie?”

A sudden and surprising surge of fury stole Aloy’s breath for a moment. How _dare_ he speak Ikrie’s name so casually? For all he knew, Ikrie was dead, and he didn’t even care. 

Aloy inhaled carefully through her nose and kept her voice bland. “She’s gone. She sounded brave.”

“Her name will always be in my song,” Mailen suddenly said, and Aloy glanced at her. For the first time, Mailen looked sad.

Aloy narrowed her eyes. What right did Mailen have to be sad, when _she_ was the one who’d thrown Ikrie aside like rusted scrap?

Aloy nodded a terse goodbye to the White Teeth chieftain and shaman, then grudgingly approached Mailen. “You’re very clever,” Mailen said flatly. “You learned our laws well enough to break them, and to defend another’s honour too.”

Aloy folded her arms and stared at Mailen, no longer bothering to hide her disapproval. “I know how much those laws mean to you. Though I don’t understand why,” she said bluntly. Aloy genuinely did _not_ understand. How could some _stupid_ law possibly mean more to Mailen than a lifelong companion who obviously loved her?

“Don’t you see?” Mailen said angrily. “Ikrie was my only friend, and she could have died. You could have too, all for my mistake.” Mailen paused briefly and pressed her lips together hard, then continued in a firm voice. “The law of survival would not allow such a waste. It makes us strong and cold. It challenges us to leave friendship behind.”

“I grew up with laws like that. They brought me nothing but pain,” Aloy insisted. She watched Mailen carefully; Mailen’s jaw was clenched and her eyes were bright, and Aloy could see the effort she was using to keep her composure. It was obvious now that Mailen was upset about leaving Ikrie behind. So why put herself through this if she didn’t have to?

Mailen glared at her. “Did you believe in those laws?”

Aloy exhaled hard but didn’t answer, and Mailen huffed. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “This is my choice. _My_ pain. The White Teeth are my future now.” Aloy watched incredulously as Mailen swallowed hard and bowed her head. Finally she lifted her face, and her expression was cold and stern and utterly Banuk. “I’m grateful to you, but we have nothing more to speak of,” she said. 

It was a clear dismissal. Aloy snorted in open disgust, then turned on her heel without saying goodbye. Mailen was right; she and Aloy were clearly from completely different worlds. There was nothing more to say. 

Aloy stalked back to her Charger, then slung herself onto its back and rode away. She tried to let the wind whip away her anger and clear her mind. _It’s not my business,_ she told herself sternly. _Not my tribe, not my discarded friend, not my problem._ But with Ikrie’s crumbling composure and Rost’s departing back roiling through her mind’s eye, it was so hard to stay impartial. 

Aloy kicked her Charger’s sides, and soon her eyes were watering from the frigid wind. _I’ve got more urgent problems to deal with,_ she thought. _I have to take out that bandit camp… collect pigments for Sekuli… then Aratak won’t be able to deny my challenge. And I’ll find out what this Daemon is once and for all._

Immediately Aloy felt calmer as she turned her mind to her next task. Humans were complicated and difficult; Aloy sometimes wondered if she would ever really understand what went on in some people’s minds.

Machine mysteries, on the other hand, were a puzzle she would always be eager to solve.

****************

**One month later…**

Aloy guided her Charger towards the Snowchants Hunting Grounds at a leisurely pace. She knew Gildun thought she was nuts for actually wanting to hunt more machines after the destruction of Thunder’s Drum, but Aloy had always found hunting trials to help clear her mind and re-energize after stressful events.

Aloy had spent the last week eliminating HEPHAESTUS’s Fireclaws with Aratak’s help and enjoying the beauty and solitude of the Cut, briefly interrupted with sparse company from the few Banuk she actually had something in common with. Just that morning she’d sent Tulemak, Tatai, and Urkai on their way with their machine parts for Burgrend. Now, as she rode up a snowy rise, Aloy pondered the Banuk: specifically, the differences between the ones who lived here in Banuk lands, and those who had left. 

The Banuk that Aloy had met in the Sundom had been extremely competitive hunters, but Aloy didn’t recall them being as cold and _strict_ about their laws as the Banuk here in the Cut. Some of the Banuk she’d met in the Sundom were downright funny; she still recalled the first Banuk wanderer she’d ever met in Meridian, who’d wistfully spoken of leaving a Banuk farewell mark in the Hunter’s Lodge. And then there were the three hunters she’d just helped: the Scars of the North were actively spurning Banuk tradition, and they were leaving the Sundom in order to feel safe and comfortable doing so.

 _Maybe there’s something about people who leave the place they’re born,_ Aloy thought. Aloy was one of the few Nora who had left the Sacred Lands, and she was _definitely_ more flexible than the average Nora. All the Oseram in the Sundom had left their birthplace, and most of them were the friendliest and most open-minded people she’d met. She couldn’t speak much for the Carja since she’d met so few outside of the Sundom, and Nil was probably not a good example of an average travelling Carja; but overall, Aloy’s sense of a difference between homebound and _free_ seemed to extend to the Banuk. 

Aloy’s idly pondering mind then drifted to Ikrie. She wondered whether Ikrie was still in the Cut somewhere, or she’d gone home to Ban-Ur. Aloy had genuinely been hoping to run into Ikrie again; there was just something about the young Banuk huntress that made Aloy feel comfortable. She knew it was partly that she and Ikrie had eerily similar ways of thinking, even down to their plan of attack during the hunt: they’d barely needed to talk while taking down those machines on the Icefather. But Aloy had met other people who were similar to her as well - Talanah and Nakoa, for example - and yet Aloy hadn’t felt quite as relaxed with them as she did with Ikrie. Aloy would have liked to talk to Ikrie for a little longer, had the circumstances of their meeting not been so… dire.

“Aloy! Hey, _Aloy!_ ”

Aloy jerked her head up in surprise, and there she was: Ikrie was standing on the platform overlooking the Snowchants Hunting Grounds, her delicately freckled face bright with interest as she watched Aloy approach on her Charger.

Aloy hastily dismounted her Charger and jogged over to Ikrie’s side. Ikrie folded her arms and looked Aloy over from head to toe, then laughed. “An outlander as a Banuk chieftain… They told me things were different here in the Cut, but I didn’t expect this!” 

Aloy couldn’t help but smile back as Ikrie regarded her chieftain gear with amusement. “Ikrie. Training again so soon?”

Ikrie shrugged happily. “Never met a hunter who wished they’d trained less,” she quipped. Then her grin softened and she shrugged again, this time with a touch of melancholy. “I guess I’m not in any hurry to go back to Ban-Ur. Not yet.” 

Unexpectedly, Aloy felt a little jump of excitement in her chest, like a fish leaping from the surface of a lake. “Do you want to talk about it? What happened at the glacier?” she asked gently. 

Ikrie shook her head. “No. I’d rather fight through it. Take it in my teeth and be left with the taste of determination.” 

Aloy nodded, then hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Just so you know… I told the White Teeth what you asked.” She didn’t mention Mailen in case it would upset Ikrie.

But Aloy didn’t need to worry. “What about Mailen?” Ikrie asked eagerly. “Did they accept her?”

Aloy studied Ikrie’s face carefully; her eyebrows were lifted in curiosity, but she didn’t seem particularly wistful or sad. Aloy nodded confirmation. “They did.”

Ikrie beamed. “As they should. She was strong,” she said with satisfaction. Ikrie gazed at Aloy then smiled ruefully, and Aloy realized with a pang of embarrassment that her skepticism must have been showing in her face. Ikrie insisted, “Really. I only feel pride for her. As for me…” The Banuk huntress sighed, but her lips were still curled in a smile. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, and Aloy felt a strange jolt in her belly as she watched the gently drifting snowflakes landing on Ikrie’s pale freckled cheeks. 

“I always wanted to be a snow-ghost, free to do what I will,” Ikrie murmured. Her voice was quiet and peaceful, but Aloy couldn’t help but wonder at the lovely yet _incongruous_ imagery that Ikrie described. Ikrie was so lively and passionate that Aloy couldn’t imagine her as anything so insubstantial as a ghost. 

Eventually Ikrie opened her eyes again and grinned playfully at Aloy. “Enough of that. How about it, Aloy? You up for a challenge?”

Aloy cleared her throat awkwardly before speaking. “What kind of challenge? A competition?”

Ikrie wrinkled her nose at Aloy as though she was being obtuse. “ _No._ Together! We’ll use the hunting grounds, but _my_ rules. Lauvak’s fine with it,” Ikrie said brightly. 

Aloy glanced at Lauvak, the Hunting Grounds Keeper, who shook her head in dismay. 

Aloy forced herself not to smirk and looked back at Ikrie, who seemed cheerfully oblivious to Lauvak’s disapproval. “We take in as little as possible: my sling and your bow,” Ikrie explained. “You draw the machines to me so I can freeze them. Then you hit them when they’re brittle. We fight until we run out of machines _or_ you run out of arrows. That’s the challenge.”

Aloy scratched the back of her neck hesitantly. She’d never done a hunting trial with someone else, and she wasn’t sure whether she could… well, _share_. “Honestly, I’m more used to fighting alone…” she prevaricated.

But Ikrie wasn’t deterred. “And I’m more used to fighting alongside another,” she retorted. “So put your spear beside mine, why don’t you?”

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek as she gazed at Ikrie’s happy, expectant face. She couldn’t decide why she felt so oddly vulnerable in the face of Ikrie’s proposal. _It’s just a hunting challenge,_ she told herself sternly. _You accepted the challenge for chieftain without a second thought. How is this different?_

But it _was_ different. Challenging Aratak had been a competition, and that was straightforward and easy. It relied on nothing more than Aloy’s own skill and determination. But as Ikrie had said, this wasn’t a competition. What Ikrie was offering now was… cooperation. 

Aloy had never had a hunting partner. When she’d fought with Erend against Dervahl’s mercenaries or with Nil at the bandit camps, or even when she’d fought with Sona and the other Nora against the Eclipse at Devil’s Thirst, Aloy was the one in control; everyone she’d ever fought with had really been fighting _for_ her, following her commands as she called the shots. She’d never fought alongside someone and truly shared the load. She’d never trusted anyone that much. 

But now, Ikrie was offering a cooperative hunt, and she was asking Aloy to guard her back… and asking Aloy to trust that she would do the same. 

Aloy bit her lip; then, feeling like she was agreeing to more than a simple hunting challenge, she finally nodded sharply. “You freeze them, I shoot them: doesn’t seem too hard.”

Ikrie grinned slowly, and her dark grey eyes sparkled with mischief. “Really? Then you’ll only need half as many arrows as I’d planned to give you.”

Aloy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Wait…!” 

Ikrie chuckled, and Aloy couldn’t decide if she was more exasperated or amused by Ikrie’s obvious glee. “It shows I trust your aim,” Ikrie replied. “Do you trust mine?”

A distinctly nervous feeling made Aloy’s chest feel tight; it was almost as though Ikrie had read her mind. She worried at her lip for a moment longer, then finally shook her head ruefully. “You’ve really got to work for a Banuk challenge, don’t you?”

Ikrie punched her shoulder cheerfully. “That’s the spirit. Come on, let’s drop off our gear and go.”

A few minutes later, the two huntresses were crouched together in the hunting grounds on a jutting boulder, watching a pack of Scrappers grinding at the snow. Ikrie leaned in close. “Remember: you draw them close, I freeze them,” Ikrie whispered. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Aloy nodded, then slid down into the rocky plain just below Ikrie’s position. Then she ran full pelt towards the nearest Scrapper. “Hey!” she yelled. “Over here, you lumps of rusty scrap!” 

Ikrie’s shout of laughter drifted over to her through the frigid air. “Subtle!” Ikrie shouted. 

Aloy grinned in response, but she had no time to reply; the three closest Scrappers’ headlights flashed abruptly to red, and the two others lifted their metal heads in amber-lit alarm. Aloy bolted back towards Ikrie with the Scrapper pack on her heels, then rolled to avoid a Scrapper’s lunge while simultaneously drawing her bow.

“Gotcha!” Ikrie cried, and Aloy looked up to see three of the Scrappers already coated in the thick white frost of Ikrie’s icebombs. Aloy wasted no time; she shot each frozen Scrapper precisely in its power cell, and they all dropped immediately with a burst of sparks. 

Ikrie froze the fourth Scrapper right before it lunged at her, and Aloy swiftly shot the Scrapper right before sliding into a skid. In tandem, she and Ikrie turned towards the fifth Scrapper, with Aloy’s arrow seamlessly following Ikrie’s icebomb as soon as the machine was frosted with white. 

Aloy panted for breath and smiled at Ikrie, who was positively glowing with delight. “Hope you’re not tired yet,” Ikrie chirped. She jerked her head to the long grass to their left, where a handful of Grazers were peacefully stirring up the snow. “There’s our next quarry.”

“I’ll get them with fire arrows,” Aloy offered, then slipped away into the grass without waiting for Ikrie’s reply. There was no need for icebombs this time; if Aloy timed this right, she could bring down all three Grazers with a single fire arrow.

She waited in the long grass for the Grazers to wander close to each other, then shot the center one directly in a blaze canister. 

All three Grazers lifted their heads in alarm, and then the center one erupted in flame, followed by the other two. But Aloy couldn’t celebrate yet; she had to wait until all the Grazers fell. 

Moments later, two of the Grazers fell, but the last one bounded away with a groaning cry, and Aloy hissed in frustration as she followed it. She waved her arms and shouted to get its attention, then bolted back towards Ikrie. 

She flung herself onto the boulder beside Ikrie, who was already launching an icebomb at the enraged but limping Grazer. “Sloppy,” Ikrie admonished, but she was still grinning. Aloy shot the frozen Grazer’s remaining blaze canister with a fire arrow, then turned to Ikrie. “Sorry,” Aloy muttered sheepishly. 

Ikrie affably bumped Aloy’s shoulder with her own. “I’ve got your back, remember? Now let’s get to it. Look!” She jerked her chin to the right this time, and Aloy shook her head in disbelief: two Tramplers were chuntering about behind a jutting butte of snow-covered rock. 

Ikrie chuckled, and the sound reminded Aloy of a burbling brook; Ikrie clearly couldn’t contain her enthusiasm for this challenge, and Aloy suddenly found herself grinning.

“That’s the spirit!” Ikrie said, then loaded another icebomb into her sling. “Now get going!” 

Aloy pelted towards the Tramplers; they were easy to provoke, and Aloy didn’t even need to yell this time to make them chase her with their headlights glowing a malevolent red. Ikrie promptly froze them, and then Aloy began shooting one Trampler’s excavation horns before finishing it off with a straight shot to its power cell. “One down,” she called out breathlessly, then rolled to avoid a blast of fire from the remaining Trampler. 

But there was a problem: Aloy was running low on ammo. She had four fire arrows left, but few hardpoint or hunter arrows. It was going to be a close fight, depending on what the final wave of machines had in store. 

She hurried to Ikrie’s side and crouched, panting, while Ikrie refroze the second Trampler. Then Aloy took the machine down with as few arrows as possible.

She turned to Ikrie. “All right. I’m almost out. What…?”

A low, rumbling groan had caught Aloy’s attention, and she groaned. “A Bellowback?” she demanded. 

Ikrie threw her head back and laughed, and Aloy’s annoyance immediately melted in the face of Ikrie’s mirth. “Should have saved your fire arrows!” she said, and Aloy finally chuckled, then shoved Ikrie’s shoulder lightly. “Shut up,” Aloy joked.

Ikrie smirked. “Go on then,” she encouraged. “Bring our fiery friend over here!” 

Aloy did as Ikrie asked, and soon the Bellowback was roaring in rage and trying in vain to shake off the hoarfrost from its metal plates. Aloy promptly shot its blaze reservoir with two fire arrows - _uh oh, running low, only one left,_ she thought - and moments later, the Bellowback was burning merrily. 

Then an icebomb struck the Bellowback, extinguishing the fire on its foreleg. Aloy turned to Ikrie in alarm, but Ikrie had covered her mouth with one apologetic hand. “Sorry!” she gasped. “I got overexcited! Damn…” 

The flames dancing across the Bellowback’s body were slowly tapering off, and Aloy shook her head to throw off Ikrie’s apology. “Don’t worry. We might just manage…” She shot the Bellowback’s blaze-filled jowls with her last fire arrow. 

_Damn._ The ice was still too thick; the machine’s jowls didn’t ignite. Aloy winced and turned to Ikrie. “I only have two arrows left. If these don’t do it…” 

Ikrie hopped with irrepressible excitement, then jerked her chin at the Bellowback. “Just try!”

Aloy pulled a face, then reluctantly shot the Bellowback with her final two arrows… and the Bellowback didn’t fall. 

“Run!” Ikrie yelled, then together she and Aloy bolted for the handholds that would carry them out of the hunting grounds. 

The two women panted for breath on the platform, then Ikrie abruptly sat and began laughing giddily. “By the Blue Light, that was…” She trailed off as another wave of laughter stole her breath.

Aloy braced her hands on her knees and grinned at her Banuk friend. She couldn’t blame Ikrie for her joy; this challenge really was exhilarating. Aloy was well accustomed now to meeting time limits during these hunting trials, but strategically using ammo was even more exciting somehow; this was a test of both physical _and_ strategic skill. 

Ikrie finally sat up and smiled up at Aloy. “We got almost all of them! Who taught you? Your mother? Sister?”

Aloy’s smile faded slowly and she stood up straight. She couldn’t blame Ikrie for the assumption; Aloy was a Nora, after all, and every outlander knew how important mothers were to the Nora. She swallowed hard before shaking her head and replying. “His name was Rost,” she said. 

Ikrie gazed up at her thoughtfully. “Rost. Sounds very Nora. I can almost picture him: stout as a tree.” 

Aloy gave Ikrie a little half-smile. She was grateful for Ikrie’s playful reply, and that Ikrie wasn’t prying any further. Aloy tilted her head curiously. “And you?”

Ikrie shrugged casually. “I taught myself. I never knew my parents. There’s a saying: ‘an infant means two fewer hands to hunt with.’ That challenge was their gift to me.” 

Aloy stared at Ikrie’s calm, pleasant expression. Suddenly she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Ikrie had been abandoned not once, but _twice_ by people who were supposed to love her? 

Aloy felt dizzy for a moment as a strange sense of familiarity washed over her. But Ikrie seemed so _fine_ with how much she’d been hurt. Aloy, on the other hand… 

She bit the inside of her cheek, then determinedly tossed back her hair. “Let’s go again,” Aloy suggested firmly. “We can do better.”

A gamine grin crept over Ikrie’s face. “I was thinking the same thing. Same as last time, only…”

“... we make fewer mistakes,” Aloy finished. 

Ikrie’s eyes sparkled. “Good plan.”

********************

Half an hour later, Aloy and Ikrie were sitting by the fire on the platform and enjoying their victory. Ikrie had cheekily pointed out the logpiles in the hunting grounds which Aloy had missed during their first round, and Aloy had used these to their full advantage to take out three of the Scrappers and one Trampler. They’d then been able to take out the remaining machines with arrows to spare. 

Ikrie grinned at Aloy and tapped her mug of herbal tea against Aloy’s in a congratulatory gesture. “You made that look easy!” Ikrie said approvingly. 

Aloy smiled back. “So did you,” she said truthfully. “I’ve never seen anyone wield a blast sling so quickly.”

Ikrie tilted her head in thanks, then leaned back on her palms. “It sounds crazy, but I was worried it would be gone. My skill,” she clarified, when Aloy frowned in confusion. “Like summer thaw. When you spend so long with another… anticipating their moves, keeping yourselves back-to-back…” Then she trailed off.

Aloy wrapped her arms around her knees as she waited respectfully for Ikrie to speak. Ikrie’s face was a bit downcast, and Aloy suddenly wondered how much of Ikrie’s cheerful manner was a mask.

Ikrie gave Aloy a rueful little smirk, but her eyes were still sad. “I guess I’ll always fight that way, whether someone’s there or not.”

Aloy rested her chin on her knees and thought for a moment before replying. “That’s _your_ challenge, Ikrie. For what it’s worth, I think you’ll do fine.” 

Ikrie gazed at her seriously for a moment, then gave a tiny huff of amusement and lifted her mug of tea to her lips. “Think I should settle down, start a hunting ground of my own?”

Ikrie’s humorous tone had returned, but Aloy didn’t bite. “I think you could do whatever you put your mind to,” she said seriously. 

Ikrie’s sardonic little smirk faded, and she and Aloy gazed at each other for a moment. The silence stretched between them, and Aloy’s skin began to prickle; the moment felt heavy, like a fresh blanket of snow, and Aloy couldn’t decide if the edgy feeling was a good one or a bad one. 

Abruptly Aloy gulped the last of her tea and stood. “Well, I should go. Daemonic machines to hunt, wandering bandits to kill, you know…” 

Ikrie suddenly grinned. “Were you always so tough?”

It was Aloy’s turn now to shrug casually. “I had to be. I wasn’t part of the tribe for most of my life. The Nora didn’t want me... I guess the feeling was mutual.” Then Aloy clamped her lips shut. She’d never told anyone that before. She’d never told anyone _anything_ that personal before.

Aloy dropped her eyes awkwardly and shifted her weight, feeling strangely torn. On the one hand, she suddenly wanted to leave the hunting grounds and leave this vulnerable feeling behind. But Ikrie was gazing up at her with a wistful and curious expression, and Aloy felt oddly tied in place. 

Then Ikrie spoke, and her voice soft and wistful. “What’s it like, to make your own path in the world?”

 _Lonely._ The word immediately floated from Aloy’s chest, and for a horrified moment she thought she’d said it out loud. Aloy had been travelling alone ever since Rost’s death. In truth, this had been her preference. So many people had offered for her to stay with them: Petra had urged her to come back to Free Heap after the Battle of HADES, and Varl had fairly begged her to return ‘home’ to the Sacred Lands. The Sun-King had even offered her a job as his second-in-command (and potentially a marriage, though Aloy didn’t like to think too much about that). But Aloy always refused. She’d always thought it was because she had too much to do, too many tasks to fulfill… but once the Battles of HADES had ended and Aloy had no life-or-death tasks to hide behind, she’d realized the truth: she never stayed in one place because there was no one she deemed worth staying for. 

Aloy breathed deeply to quell the pain in her chest. “Well, you might end up talking to yourself a lot,” she said lightly.

Ikrie smirked cheekily. “So the company’s good, at least.”

Aloy snorted in amusement, though the pain in her chest remained. Ikrie was gazing up at her fondly, and Aloy knew this was her cue to go, but… 

“Let’s not say farewell,” Ikrie said, and Aloy was struck anew by the odd echo of _sameness_ between their thoughts. “I’ve had enough of that to last me a million winters.”

“Me too,” Aloy agreed. She shifted her weight awkwardly. A strange urge was rising in her chest, pressing on the back of her tongue, and suddenly she spoke without quite meaning to. “Actually… what are you doing now?” 

The corners of Ikrie’s lips lifted in a slow smile, and the ache in Aloy’s chest was suddenly washed away by a flutter of hope. 

“Nothing at all,” Ikrie replied. “What do you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And that's all for Ikrie's canon dialogue! We're going off book now... Hope you guys will enjoy what I come up with next! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. Stew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Readers of What Else Matters may recognize some of my Banuk headcanons in this chapter.

Aloy led Ikrie away from the hunting grounds’ campfire and approached the Charger that she’d been riding earlier that day.

Ikrie slowed down and gazed at the Charger with open admiration. “So that _wasn’t_ a snow-mirage when I saw you riding up on a machine!” she exclaimed. 

Aloy patted her Charger fondly on the rump. “They usually make it a lot faster to get around,” she explained. “But they struggle in the deepest snow as much as I do.” Shyly she glanced at Ikrie out of the corner of her eye. When she’d first started riding machines in the Sacred Lands, Aloy had avoided settlements and main roads in order to spare herself the fearful or admiring glances from passersby. As time went on, she’d stopped caring as much what people thought, even though the open stares she garnered always chafed a bit. But Ikrie wasn’t like most people, and Aloy wondered how Ikrie would react to her metal mount.

Ikrie didn’t disappoint. She watched Aloy patting the machine for a moment longer, then reached out to run a gloved hand along the Charger’s back. “Wow,” Ikrie whispered. “I’ve never touched a machine before without the intent to kill.” She grinned at Aloy. “Such is a hunter’s life, hey?”

Aloy’s shoulders immediately relaxed at Ikrie’s casual response, and she smiled. “I was the same, before I learned to, um… to control them.” She cleared her throat awkwardly; she’d never talked about the overriding process with anyone before except for Sylens, and a little bit with Ourea. She jerked her head at the Charger. “Ready to ride?” 

But Ikrie was gazing curiously at her. “How _are_ you able to infuse the machines with the Blue Light? I’ve only ever seen shamans do that during ceremonies. And I’ve definitely never seen a shaman riding a machine.” Ikrie sniggered. “Can you imagine a shaman trying to ride a Charger? Their headdresses would fall off.” 

Aloy smirked at the mental image, but Ikrie’s words made her a bit nervous. Was Ikrie a strong believer in Banukai and the Blue Light? The Banuk’s spiritual beliefs were the most plausible of all the religions that Aloy had encountered during her travels, but Aloy knew more about the nature of how these machines worked and where they’d come from, and she knew that the Banuk’s concept of the Blue Light wasn’t… well, wasn’t entirely accurate. But she didn’t want to insult Ikrie by saying so too bluntly. 

She pulled her spear from her back and spun it to show Ikrie the Corruptor tech she’d attached to the butt of the weapon. “I use this. It’s a device that lets me override the machines’ program- err…” She paused for a second; she’d never had to try to explain this before. Finally she waved her spear vaguely. “I plug this end into the machine and then it no longer considers me a threat,” she finished lamely. 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “Can you control any machine?” she asked. 

Aloy shrugged and dropped her eyes. “Not all,” she admitted. “I can’t control Corruptors. Or Deathbringers.” 

Ikrie’s dark grey eyes somehow got even wider. “What are Corruptors and Deathbringers?” she demanded, sounding utterly fascinated. 

Aloy twisted her lips and ran a hand through her hair. She could understand why Ikrie had so many questions - after all, Ikrie had never left Banuk lands, and Aloy’s story was undeniably complicated - but the answers to Ikrie’s questions were inexorably tied to Aloy’s strange origins, and Aloy hadn’t really prepared herself for things to get personal so quickly. There was something about Ikrie that just seemed to _disarm_ her somehow. 

“Hey,” Ikrie said suddenly, and Aloy looked up in surprise as Ikrie shoved her shoulder lightly. “I’m a fast learner, I promise you. You don’t have to dumb it down for me.”

Aloy swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat. That wasn’t what Aloy had been thinking, but Ikrie’s words caught on another familiar melancholy snag in Aloy’s mind: that she had no one to talk to about the mysterious ways of the Old Ones. Sylens only deigned to speak to her when he felt like it; Aloy was frankly shocked that he’d contacted her during her time here in the Cut. Talking to CYAN had been fascinating, but ultimately CYAN only knew so much about the events of Zero Dawn since the AI had been in hibernation during the worst of it. As a consequence, Aloy spent most of her time talking to herself for lack of anyone else to brainstorm with. Ikrie couldn’t possibly know that, of course, but the Banuk huntress’s words - _you don’t have to dumb it down for me_ \- struck a hot little spark of hope in her chest. 

Aloy shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s… I _want_ to explain,” Aloy said truthfully. “But… it’s a long story.” She glanced briefly at Ikrie, then swallowed again; Ikrie’s playful face was serious now. 

“I know,” Ikrie said gently. “I can see the stories in your eyes, as clear as ice.” 

Aloy huffed a little laugh that sounded hollow to her own ears. “Is it that obvious?” she said, in a would-be casual tone. 

Ikrie shrugged lightly. “Fate’s a long climb on a high cliff for people like you and me,” she said softly. Then she pushed Aloy’s shoulder again, more gently this time. “They’re _your_ stories to tell though, Aloy. I’m not one to pry. You mentioned riding this monster?” Ikrie gave the Charger’s horn a friendly pat, and Aloy finally smiled; she was grateful both for Ikrie’s respect for her privacy and her sudden change of topic. 

“Yeah,” Aloy said. She slung herself effortlessly onto the Charger’s back, then offered Ikrie a hand. “Hop up here behind me. I’ve never ridden with someone else though,” she warned. “I can’t promise you won’t fall off.”

Ikrie cheerfully waved her hand away, then hoisted herself onto the Charger and slid into place behind Aloy. “This is gonna be _great_ ,” Ikrie said emphatically. “And don’t worry about me falling off. If I can teach myself to hunt, I can teach myself to ride.” 

Aloy grinned. “My thoughts exactly,” she replied, then flicked the Charger’s blue wire reins and started off in a slow gait. 

Ikrie immediately grabbed Aloy’s waist for support as the Charger began to move. “Woah!” she laughed. “Take it easy!” 

Aloy snorted. “This _is_ easy! This is slower than walking,” she taunted.

Ikrie barked out a laugh. “All right, I see how it is. A challenge, is it? I’ll happily meet you halfway.” 

Aloy smiled as Ikrie’s grip relax on her waist. Then Ikrie asked, “Where are we going, anyway?”

“There’s a Daemonic Thunderjaw in a valley to the west. I need-”

Ikrie gasped. “A _Thunderjaw_? Yes!”

Aloy smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm. “You’ve hunted one before, I take it?”

“Well, sure, with a group of six other hunters!” Ikrie’s fingers tightened with excitement on her waist. “You think we can take it down just the two of us?”

“Of course,” Aloy replied confidently. She declined to tell Ikrie how many Thunderjaws she’d taken down all by herself. “We’ll probably arrive tomorrow. We’ll have to find somewhere to camp for the night.” She squeezed the Charger’s sides lightly with her heels, and the metal beast moved into a slightly faster lope, just enough for the breeze to blow her hair. 

Ikrie’s fingers squeezed then loosened on her waist. “That’s fine with me. I’ll make a mean stew to fuel us for the fight,” she said brightly. 

Aloy raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You make stews?” she asked. Aloy had difficulty imagining the Banuk doing something so… homey. 

“Of course. Don’t you?” Ikrie replied, and her confident tone immediately made Aloy feel sheepish for her assumption. 

Aloy shrugged. “Not really.” Stews were a lot of work and produced a lot of leftovers that were difficult to carry - an inconvenience for a solo traveller who was as active as Aloy. 

Ikrie made a little surprised noise. “Stews are the best way to prepare meat. What better way is there to warm your belly and your blood?” she asked. 

Aloy shrugged again, feeling yet more sheepish, and Ikrie laughed. “Don’t worry, Aloy. I might be a poor excuse for a Banuk, but I’m a great cook. You’ll see.” 

Ikrie’s voice was reassuring and confident, and Aloy couldn’t help but smile at her exuberance; it was refreshing after the heaviness of her quest in Thunder’s Drum. “I’ll hold you to that,” Aloy remarked. “Ready for a bit more speed?”

“You bet. Show me what your metal friend can do!” Ikrie chirped. 

Aloy flicked the Charger’s reins hard. The Charger immediately set off at a fast sprint, and Aloy grinned as Ikrie whooped with excitement at their burst of speed. Instinctively Aloy leaned law over the mount’s back, and Ikrie copied her, her chest flush to Aloy’s back. Ikrie was right: she _was_ a fast learner. 

Cold wind whipped Aloy’s cheeks and forced her to narrow her eyes, but the wind couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. It was too soon to tell, but Aloy got the feeling that a Thunderjaw wasn’t the only machine they’d be tackling together.

******************

Later that evening, Aloy and Ikrie settled at a campfire at the mouth of the valley where the Daemonic Thunderjaw held its patrol. The two women had set up the small tent that Aloy had purchased on her arrival in Song’s Edge, and true to her word, Ikrie was cooking a stew in an emptied chillwater canister from a Lancehorn. Aloy watched curiously as Ikrie stirred the fragrant concoction, then added a handful of fresh freeze rime roots. 

“Do all Banuk know how to cook, then?” Aloy asked. She was crafting arrows as she waited for dinner; the scent of rabbit and freeze rime was incredibly tempting, and making ammo was a good way to keep herself from fidgeting with impatience. 

“It’s an essential skill for hunters,” Ikrie replied. “After all, food is medicine, right? Strength comes from the food you eat. You want to stay strong, a good meal is the first step.” Ikrie tasted the stew thoughtfully, then took a pinch of salt from a tiny pouch around her waist and added it to the stew. She shot Aloy an amused look as she added some salvebrush berries to the bubbling canister. “So if you don’t cook, what _do_ you eat?” 

Aloy shrugged. “Roasted meat. Dried fruit. Bread. You know, easy to carry, easy to make. I don’t usually… I mean, this is time-consuming.” She waved at the stew. “Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she added hastily. “But… I move around a lot.” 

Ikrie pulled a thoughtful face. “Roasted meat… that’s not bad. How do you season it?”

Aloy frowned. “Season it?” 

Ikrie waved at the simmering stew. “Yeah. What herbs do you use? Freeze rime? Corruption glaze? Hintergold?” 

Aloy shrugged helplessly. “Does salt count?”

Ikrie stared at her in disbelief. “You don’t use herbs in your cooking?” 

Aloy lifted her hands defensively. “No. I mean, why would I? Herbs are… Well, do they really have protective properties, anyway? Aside from hintergold and salvebrush and the other medicinal ones? Rost used to make me drink fire kiln infusions before I went out to hunt Grazers and Striders, but that always just seemed like boarcrap to me - not that I was ever careless enough to get burnt by them…” Aloy was rambling and she knew it, but Ikrie’s wide-eyed gaze was throwing her for a loop.

Ikrie snorted. “Well, you’re not supposed to _drink_ fire kiln, obviously. It’s only effective when it’s applied to the skin. But freeze rime is great for protecting against the cold - helps keep your body temperature up.” She stirred the stew again, then poured two hearty portions into wooden bowls for herself and Aloy. 

Aloy took a bowl from Ikrie. “How do you know so much about healing?” she asked. Aloy was well-versed in field healing, and she’d patched herself up on more than one occasion, but Ikrie was so confident and knowledgeable. She seemed to know as much as a Nora healer. More, even, if what Ikrie said about fire kiln was true. 

Ikrie gave her an odd look. “What do you mean? I’m a hunter. Of course I know about healing.” She blew gently on her bowl, then took a sip of the thick broth and nodded in satisfaction. She tilted her head towards the cooling bowl of stew in Aloy’s hands. “Well? Eat up! Tell me what you think of Banuk cuisine.” She grinned mischievously. 

Aloy obediently took a spoonful of steaming broth. As the warm, silky stew washed over her tongue, a sudden memory slammed into her gut, vibrant but hazy with that unique quality that only childhood memories have: an image of Rost, his face creased with fond exasperation as he handed her a bowl of stew by the fire in front of their lonely cabin on All-Mother Mountain. 

Aloy couldn’t breathe. With effort she swallowed the mouthful of delicious stew, then looked up at Ikrie, who was watching her with an expectant little smile. “Well?” Ikrie said. 

“It’s… good. Really good,” Aloy managed to say. She hid her face by taking another big gulp directly from the bowl, then shovelled a big bite of rabbit into her mouth. 

Ikrie chuckled. “Your fast eating is more of a compliment than your words. I’ll take it.” They ate in companionable silence for some time; indeed, Aloy finished her food first, both out of hunger and a desire to loosen the ache in her chest, and Ikrie wordlessly poured her a second bowl. 

Aloy finished her second serving as Ikrie was helping herself to another bowl. Aloy watched quietly as Ikrie chewed a bite of meat; her freckled face was lifted to the starry sky, calm and content as she enjoyed her dinner, and Aloy bit her lip before hesitantly speaking.

“Rost. The… the man who raised me. He used to make stews. I think he used a similar… seasoning in his cooking.” 

Ikrie glanced at her curiously, then swallowed her bite of meat before speaking. “Really? That’s impressive. He must have been a good hunter.”

Aloy nodded. “He was,” she confirmed quietly. Then something odd occurred to her: Ikrie had referred to Rost in the past tense. But Aloy hadn’t told Ikrie that Rost was dead.

“Ikrie… How did you know Rost was…?” She trailed off. She’d never talked about Rost with anyone except Teersa.

Ikrie lowered her bowl and gazed at Aloy seriously. “I could tell from the way you talked about him.” She was quiet for a moment, then very gently she asked, “Can I ask… What happened to him?” 

Aloy gnawed at the inside of her cheek. It was dark now, with the sparkling stars and the cozy campfire as their only source of light, and somehow it felt easier to talk about these things under the cover of darkness. Aloy put her bowl aside and drew her knees up to her chin. “There was an attack in the Nora’s lands. Over a year ago now. A splinter group of Carja attacked the Sacred Lands. Rost died to protect me.” 

_He was my only family,_ Aloy wanted to say. She knew Ikrie would understand what that meant, and she wanted Ikrie to know that she understood what it meant to be _alone_ , but the words got stuck behind her clenched teeth.

“I’m really sorry, Aloy.” Ikrie was quiet for a long a time; the only sound was the snap and crackle of the fire. Then Ikrie spoke again in a very soft voice. “He must have really loved you.” 

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek hard and turned her face to lay her cheek on her knees. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and soaked into her Banuk pants. 

Some time later, Ikrie spoke again, and her voice was lighter. “What was he like? Was he as strong and stern as I imagine?”

Aloy surreptitiously wiped her cheek on her knee and shot Ikrie a little half-smile. “How did you know?”

Ikrie chuckled and stretched her legs out by the campfire. “Anyone who raised _you_ would have to be. I bet you were a handful as a kid.”

Aloy finally laughed, then loosed into a comfortable cross-legged position. “Look who’s talking,” she teased. “I can’t imagine how the Banuk dealt with _you_. They seem so serious.”

Ikrie laughed in turn, and the friendly, bubbling sound of Ikrie’s mirth warmed Aloy as much as the stew. “Well, I have some stories I could tell you. Do you want to hear one where _I_ got in trouble, or where I got someone else in trouble?” 

Aloy smiled. “I’ll take both.” 

*********************

A few hours later, Aloy carefully unrolled her bedroll inside the small tent. Ikrie was sitting cross-legged on her bedroll, her gloves off as she carefully removed the metal pieces of her armour and piled them neatly at the base of her bedroll. 

Aloy sat on her bedroll and began to do the same, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit strange. The last time she’d shared sleeping quarters with anyone was the night before the Proving; she’d slept on her own ever since, having politely declined every offer to stay in settlements during her travels. Ikrie, on the other hand, looked completely at ease as she carefully removed her fur-and-metal headpiece and set it on top of her pile of armour. 

Ikrie tugged her hood more securely around her forehead, then shimmied into her bedroll. “Early to rise for our hunt tomorrow then, hey?” 

Aloy nodded. “It’s not far. But if we get there before the sun’s at its height, we’ll have better visibility.” 

Ikrie grinned as she rolled onto her side to face Aloy. “Spoken like a huntress after my own heart,” she declared. “No glare off the ice, no distractions during the hunt.”

Aloy grinned back as she slid into her bedroll. “Exactly.” 

Ikrie’s eyes twinkled brightly in the dim light of the small oil lamp near their heads. “Ready for lights out?” she asked.

Aloy nodded, and Ikrie capped the tiny lamp, cloaking the warm little tent in darkness. 

“Goodnight, Aloy,” Ikrie murmured.

“‘Night,” Aloy whispered. She listened as Ikrie shuffled in her bedroll for a moment, then stilled. Outside their tent, Aloy could hear the eerie hooting of owls and the gentle night hushes of snow falling from the pine boughs, but her attention was on the quiet sound of Ikrie’s breathing. 

Aloy couldn’t sleep. She still felt strange, but not in a bad way. She actually felt more comfortable sharing this tiny tent with Ikrie than she had in the more spacious Nora lodge, and again she was struck by how relaxed she felt around the Banuk huntress. In the space of two days, she’d told Ikrie more about herself than she’d told… anyone, really. And yet Ikrie’s gentle queries didn’t give her the same itchy discomfort that usually accompanied a curious acquaintance’s questions.

As Aloy’s eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she gazed idly at Ikrie’s sleeping profile. Ikrie’s eyes were closed, her eyelashes like dark little fans on her pale freckled cheeks. Aloy couldn’t help but admire the smattering of freckles across her friend’s face, like tiny shadows in the snow. 

“Aloy?” Ikrie suddenly said, and Aloy’s ears burned with embarrassment. Hastily she closed her eyes. “Yeah?” she murmured. 

Ikrie was quiet for a moment, and Aloy cracked one eye open to look at her; Ikrie’s eyes were still closed, but there was a tiny smile on her lips. “Thanks,” she said softly. “For inviting me on this hunt. It’s been a pretty lonely month.” 

Ikrie’s voice was pensive but warm, and Aloy bit her lip. A strange sensation was pressing at her sternum, like an odd combination of longing and relief, and she waited until the thick feeling in her throat subsided before she replied. 

“Yeah.” Aloy hesitated, then added, “Thank _you_. For coming with me.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ikrie murmured sleepily. “That Thunderjaw doesn’t stand a chance.”

Aloy smiled at the fuzzy sound of Ikrie’s voice. Outside the tent, owls hooted, and snow fell from pine boughs, and Aloy finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: 
> 
> 1\. Did I mention that this fic is going to be nothing but fluff + character development + hanging out with friends + eventual smut? Yep, that's all this will be. NO PLOT HERE FOLKS.  
> 2\. About the herbs and stuff: so I personally never used herbs (freeze rime or fire kiln or whatever) in any of my playthroughs until the DLC, and then the only time I used any herbs was fire kiln when fighting the Fireclaws. So I decided to use my own playing strategy as a little funny difference between Aloy and Ikrie. Hope this might answer any questions that readers might have had from earlier chapters. (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. LOVE YOUUUU!!)


	5. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you guys are okay with a relatively longer chapter! :)

Ikrie shifted slightly in her bedroll and sighed, then cracked open her eyes to find herself alone in the tent.

A faint squeeze of unhappiness took hold of her chest, and Ikrie fought to wake herself up properly and shake it off. This morning melancholy was familiar to her, and like the chill around her heart, Ikrie had grown used to it over time. The sadness had peaked just after Mailen had left, resulting in many a morning where Ikrie woke to with her eyelashes frozen with tears. But to her surprise, the feeling had started to lessen as her weeks of solitude went by.

This morning in particular, something was different: Ikrie’s customary melancholy was faint, like the last traces of dye rinsing away in a thermal pool, and as Ikrie finally sat up in the dark of the small insulated tent, she realized what had woken her: someone was humming.

The soft melody originated from just outside the tent. It was a very quiet sound, and Ikrie smiled; she was fairly sure Aloy didn’t realize she was humming. The red-haired huntress didn’t strike Ikrie as the type to openly hum. 

Quietly Ikrie slipped out of her bedroll and pushed open the tent flap, and sure enough, Aloy immediately stopped humming as she looked up with a small smile. “Hey,” Aloy said. 

Ikrie took a seat by the fire. “It’s a clear day. Great conditions for hunting,” she said with relish. She watched appreciatively as Aloy stirred the canister of leftover stew, which was heating over the fire. “I hope you got a good night’s sleep for this fight!” 

“I did, actually,” Aloy replied. She sounded faintly surprised, and Ikrie raised one eyebrow. “What, you thought I would snore?” she quipped.

Aloy smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” She fell silent for a moment as she stirred the stew, then said, “It’s been a while since I… shared accommodations with anyone.” 

Ikrie leaned back and eyed Aloy speculatively. “Fighting isn’t the only thing you’re used to doing alone, huh?” 

Aloy huffed out a small rueful laugh. “Yeah.” She poured the stew into their two bowls, and they ate quietly while watching the first rays of the sun peeking over the edge of the horizon. 

Then Aloy’s voice broke the silence again. “It was just me and Rost for most of my life. Then it was just… me.” Aloy’s eyes were fixed on her bowl, and Ikrie watched out of the corner of her eye as Aloy ate a few more bites of stew in a preoccupied manner. Then Aloy spoke again. “I was accepted into the tribe at the exact moment that Rost… that I lost him. And then I left the Sacred Lands right after that to… well. It’s a long story. But I had to do something on my own.”

Ikrie gazed curiously at her friend. “What did you have to do?”

Aloy opened her mouth, then hesitated and ran a hand through her hair. Ikrie returned her gaze to her bowl and ate another bite of stew while she waited for Aloy to speak again. Ikrie hadn’t known Aloy for long, but it was obvious that Aloy wasn’t used to talking about herself. It was also obvious that she’d been through a lot. Ikrie didn’t want to make Aloy uncomfortable, but Aloy had brought this topic up. Maybe if Ikrie just waited… 

Ikrie ate another spoonful of stew and gazed at the slowly-lightening sky. Finally Aloy said, “It had to do with this.” She reached up to her right ear and unhitched a small triangular piece of metal from beside her ear, then showed it to Ikrie.

Ikrie examined the trinket with interest. She’d noticed it before, but she’d just assumed it was a piece of Nora jewelry. Now that Ikrie was looking more carefully at it, she realized that it glowed with the Blue Light. 

“It’s called a Focus,” Aloy explained. “This is why I had to travel alone. I’m one of the only people who has one of these, and I’m the only… Well. That’s another story. The things I had to do, you need to have a Focus. Among other things.” 

“What does it do?” Ikrie asked. She was intrigued by the tiny piece of machine metal in Aloy’s hand. This was the second time that Aloy had shown mastery with an item infused with the Blue Light: first her spear with its strange technology, and now this tiny Focus. It seemed that Aloy was a natural shaman, and she didn’t seem to realize it.

Aloy’s shoulders relaxed at Ikrie’s question - _a less personal question_ , Ikrie noted. “It reveals the unseen,” Aloy said. “It shows me things that you can’t see with the naked eye. If I look at a machine, I know about the parts it’s made of, its weaknesses. If I look at a bandit camp, I can see how many bandits are in the camp, even if they’re far away. It…” She hesitated again, then said, “It lets me read the glyphs of the Old Ones.” 

Ikrie raised her eyebrows. “Wow,” she breathed. She sat back and folded her arms pensively. “I wonder what the shamans would do if they could get their hands on a Focus? It seems like it reveals so many answers. It peels back mysteries.” She looked up at Aloy curiously. “But the shamans like their mysteries… I don’t know, Aloy. What do you think?” 

Aloy was staring at Ikrie with shining eyes, her Focus cradled in her palms, and Ikrie frowned with concern. “Are you okay?”

Aloy suddenly gave a choked little laugh, then clipped the Focus back over her right ear. “Yeah,” she said gruffly. “It’s just… nice.” She lifted her bowl of stew and shoveled a few more bites into her mouth. “I haven’t been able to talk about this with anyone,” she mumbled through her bulging cheeks. 

Ikrie frowned. “Why not?” Surely it wasn’t due to a lack of curiosity. As much as Ikrie felt an uncanny sense of familiarity with Aloy, Aloy was undeniably unusual, from her mastery of technology to her flaming red hair. “Hasn’t anyone asked about your Focus before?” 

Aloy shrugged. “They have. But usually they want my help once they find out about it. Or they get weird about it. Like the Nora.” Carefully she scraped her bowl clean, then looked up at Ikrie seriously. “You’re the only one who’s been… normal about it.” 

A jolt of empathy squeezed Ikrie’s heart as she examined Aloy’s world-weary expression. As Aloy slowly revealed little pieces of herself, Ikrie was coming to understand why there was a wariness to Aloy’s manner, a faint air of suspicion that only seemed to wash away during the heady rush of the hunt. 

Ikrie playfully kicked a bit of snow at Aloy. “Hey, what’s normal anyway, right? ‘Normal’ to the Banuk means sending their hunters to the top of a frozen glacier for four days and nights.” She somehow managed to keep her tone lighthearted as she said this. 

Aloy gave her a little half-smile. “‘Normal’ to the Nora means worshipping a door.”

Ikrie barked out a sudden laugh. “You’re shitting me.”

Suddenly Aloy dissolved into laughter. Her laughter was so _rare_ but so infectious that Ikrie couldn’t help but laugh as well, even though she knew she was missing part of the story. Finally Aloy wiped the corners of her eyes. “I’ll tell you about it sometime, I promise,” she wheezed. 

Ikrie grinned. “You’d better. In the meantime, we have a Thunderjaw to hunt!” She hopped up from her seat by the fire and began tidying the remains of their meal while Aloy tamped out the fire. Together the two women rolled up their bedrolls and disassembled the tent.

Then Aloy put her fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle. Ikrie winced at the sound, then laughed in amazement as a Charger galloped over to Aloy’s side, its headlight glowing a benign blue. Ikrie planted her fists on her hips. “Now how does _that_ work?” she demanded. 

Aloy shrugged and patted the Charger briefly before vaulting smoothly onto its back. “I’m not sure. I figured it out by trial and error, really. But I think it’s similar to how your shamans’ horns work. I saw them calling Glinthawks down from the sky during a funeral ritual.” 

Ikrie raised her eyebrows thoughtfully. Then Aloy spoke again. “Hey,” she said. “Do you want to steer this time?”

Ikrie’s jaw dropped with excitement. “Can I?”

Aloy smiled and shifted back on the Charger. “Sure. Hop up here and grab hold of the blue wires.”

Eagerly Ikrie hefted herself onto the Charger in front of Aloy. Then Aloy gently encircled Ikrie with her arms and adjusted Ikrie’s grip on the wires. “Pull the left wire to go left, right wire to go right,” Aloy instructed. 

Her businesslike voice was close to Ikrie’s right ear, and a tiny shiver ran down Ikrie’s spine. Then Aloy leaned away, and Ikrie felt Aloy’s thighs tense behind her as Aloy gently kicked the Charger into movement. “The harder you kick, the faster the Charger will go,” Aloy said. 

Ikrie nodded. She seemed to have lost her voice. In an attempt to recover her composure, Ikrie kicked the Charger’s sides.

The machine jolted into a fast clip, and Ikrie yelped as she almost lost her seat. But Aloy was quick to react; her arms were firmly around Ikrie’s waist again, her hands gripping the wires just below Ikrie’s. “Steady!” Aloy laughed. 

Ikrie gave breathless laugh, then swallowed hard as Aloy pressed her chest against Ikrie’s back. “Lean forward, into the wind,” Aloy said close to Ikrie’s ear. “We’ll go faster that way.”

Ikrie nodded again and followed Aloy’s suggestion. The cool morning wind was an exhilarating slap against her cheeks, but Ikrie barely felt it; she was too preoccupied by the buzzing excitement in her belly and the fluttering of her suddenly-rapid pulse in her neck. 

It had been years since Ikrie had felt this way, but the feeling was unforgettable and unmistakable, and frankly embarrassing. How desperate must she be, to suddenly have crush-like feelings for Aloy just because Aloy put her arms around her? In a completely platonic context, no less? Ikrie hadn’t realized how desperate she was for another human’s touch, and it was humiliating. 

_Well, I’ll just make sure Aloy doesn’t find out,_ Ikrie thought. _I’ve been lonely, that’s all. It’ll go away on its own._ And in the meantime, she had the excitement of the hunt to occupy her mind.

***********************

A short time later, Aloy prompted Ikrie to slow the Charger down, and the two huntresses slid off the machine’s back. They had reached the mouth of the sloping valley where the Daemonic Thunderjaw held its patrol. 

Ikrie grinned excitedly as she spotted the Thunderjaw lumbering slowly through the valley. Her heart was pounding again, but this time with the much-less-embarrassing thrill of the hunt. Maybe it was the shamans’ teachings, or maybe it was just her, but Ikrie had always felt a certain awe for the machines. This just made it all the more satisfying to take the machines down, and the bigger, the better. 

Aloy reached into her quiver and pulled out a handful of modified arrows: those same strange arrows with the pulsating tips that she’d used against the Scorcher the first time they’d met. “Here,” Aloy said briskly as she handed the arrows to Ikrie. “These are tearblast arrows. Aim at the disc launchers - those two huge guns on the Thunderjaw’s haunches. Once the disc launchers are off, just pelt it with fire.” 

“Not with ice bombs?” Ikrie asked. 

Aloy paused. “That works,” she agreed slowly. Then she smirked. “I don’t use chillwater that often, to be honest. I’m more of a fire kind of girl.”

“Makes sense,” Ikrie said. “When you’ve got flames sprouting from your head…” She playfully flicked a strand of Aloy’s hair. 

“Yeah? Well, ice makes sense for you, snow-skin,” Aloy remarked, and Ikrie chuckled. “We’re suited to our elements, then. Fire and ice. But you’ll trust my sling in this?” Ikrie challenged. 

Aloy nodded readily. “Of course.” She slunk away towards the Thunderjaw’s left as Ikrie snuck around to its rear. 

Once Ikrie was positioned behind some cover with Aloy’s strange tearblast arrows nocked in her bow, she glanced across the valley and caught Aloy’s eye. Aloy nodded, and Ikrie swiftly shot two tearblast arrows at the Thunderjaw’s nearest disc launcher. Her next two arrows were nocked before the first two had detonated, and the rending _crunch_ of the first explosion was followed shortly thereafter by the second. 

But Ikrie _tsk_ ed with frustration: only one disc launcher had come loose. And now the Thunderjaw was turning its vast head in her direction, its headlights flaring from yellow to red. 

Ikrie wasted no time. She racked her bow on her back while pulling her sling from her hip, and she managed to hit the Thunderjaw with an icebomb before dodging swiftly to avoid the monstrous machine’s lunge. 

Ikrie rolled to her knees, then hastily ducked to avoid the Thunderjaw’s swinging tail. “That was close!” she hollered to Aloy, who was crouched defensively over the first disc launcher. Aloy shot Ikrie a swift grin, but her face was a picture of determined focus as she pulled back her bowstring and shot a tearblast arrow at the Thunderjaw’s remaining disc launcher. 

An ominous hum was followed by a short blast, and the disc launcher was torn from the Thunderjaw’s side. “Ha- _ha!_ ” Aloy chirped exuberantly.

Ikrie chuckled and began showering the Thunderjaw with icebombs. If she slung them fast enough, the metal beast would become stiff before it could turn around and run back towards her. Luckily, Ikrie was the fastest slinger in Ban-Ur, and the Thunderjaw’s joints were soon groaning from the effort of breaking through the chillwater-induced hoarfrost coating its limbs. 

“Nice!” Aloy hollered. Then Ikrie watched as Aloy hefted the disc launcher onto her hip and began blasting the Thunderjaw with it.

Ikrie couldn’t help herself; she winced at the sacrilege. The shamans she knew would have had a fit if they saw this - a sacred machine being destroyed by its own ammo, without even a request for forgiveness to the Blue Light? And this wasn’t the first time Ikrie had seen Aloy do this; clearly it was a tactic that she used regularly. 

Suddenly Ikrie snorted with laughter. Despite her instinctive internal cringing at the sight, there was also something deeply _satisfying_ about watching Aloy’s gleeful desecration of the Thunderjaw. The hunters that Ikrie had grown up with would have been disgusted… and here Aloy was, her teeth bared and her eyes narrowed as she relentlessly emptied the Thunderjaw’s ammo on itself. Ikrie couldn’t help but see some poetic justice here somehow. 

Eventually the disc launcher was emptied, and the Thunderjaw was sparking and roaring with rage. Then Aloy tugged a strange-looking weapon from her back. “Keep slinging!” Aloy shouted, and then she used her strange weapon to start tethering the Thunderjaw to the ground, starting with its wildly flailing tail. 

Ikrie instantly followed Aloy’s instructions, and within less than a minute, the Thunderjaw was securely strapped to the ground with wire and rope, and creaking fitfully with ice. “Ikrie!” Aloy shouted, and waved for Ikrie to come over. “Your turn! Grab the other disc launcher!” 

A jolt of apprehension made Ikrie’s stomach flip. “I can’t,” she blurted. As enjoyable as it had been to watch Aloy using the disc launcher, Ikrie didn’t have it in her to do the same - at least not yet. There was some ingrained instinct in her that simply balked at the thought. “I’ll use my bow!” she suggested. “Tell me its weaknesses!” 

Aloy’s eyebrows jumped high on her forehead, but she readily pointed to an open panel in the Thunderjaw’s side. “There! That’s the heart,” she yelled. 

Ikrie didn’t waste her breath to reply; she swiftly triple-loaded her arrows and then took careful aim. Two volleys later, the Thunderjaw let out an earth-shaking roar and then toppled onto its side, smoking and sparking in death. 

“ _Yes!_ ” Ikrie shouted. She victoriously punched the air with her fist, then darted over to Aloy and grabbed her in an excited hug. “That was _fantastic!_ ” she exclaimed. She released Aloy, then kicked the snow up in a little dance. “I feel like a geyser - I’m so happy I could burst!” 

Aloy let out a breathless little laugh and tugged one of her braids, and Ikrie couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks were bright pink. Finally Aloy met Ikrie’s gaze. “You should be,” Aloy said. “You and that sling… it’s like it’s part of your arm.” 

“It might as well be! Me and this sling, we go way back,” Ikrie said proudly. “I made it myself when I was sixteen.” 

Aloy raised her eyebrows appreciatively. “You make your own weapons?” 

Now it was Ikrie’s turn to be surprised. “You don’t?”

Aloy shrugged. “I can. I mean, I have. But not since I left the Sacred Lands. Honestly, the other tribes’ weapons are better than anything I can make. Banuk bows especially…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what your tribe does up here, but this powershot bow is something else.” She hefted her Banuk bow and gazed fondly at it. 

Ikrie nodded proudly. “We’ve got our secret ways up here in the ice,” she said in a mock-mysterious voice. Aloy gave a snort of laughter, and Ikrie grinned. “Seriously though, I’ll make you a sling if you like. Then you could be a fraction as amazing as me.” Ikrie playfully tossed the raccoon tail on her helmet back over her shoulder in a smug gesture. 

To Ikrie’s surprise and amusement, Aloy’s cheeks flushed pink again, and she tugged a braid. “Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve got a sling from the Hunter’s Lodge…” 

Ikrie tutted loudly. “A _Carja_ sling? Come on, Aloy, don’t insult me. I’ll make you one. Then you can decide which one’s superior,” she said decisively. 

Aloy bit her lip, looking distinctly like she was trying to hide a smile. “Yeah. Okay. That’s… Okay. That’s really nice. Um, we should…” Aloy waved vaguely at the dead Thunderjaw, then started towards it.

Ikrie smiled fondly as Aloy waddled through the deeper snow towards the Thunderjaw. Aloy was a fascinating study of contrasts: on the one hand, she was absolutely _fierce_ , a talented huntress with the stern authority of a werak chieftain. But on the other hand were Aloy’s bright pink cheeks after Ikrie had hugged her, the unguarded vulnerability in her eyes when she’d told Ikrie about her Focus… 

Ikrie watched as Aloy stumbled awkwardly in the snow, and a sharp squeeze to her heart stole her breath for a moment. But for the first time in months, it was a good squeeze, like swallowing a mouthful of deliciously hot soup. 

_It’s just a crush,_ Ikrie thought. It was too soon to feel this way about someone new. Besides, she and Aloy barely knew each other. 

“What are you doing?” Ikrie called as she approached the Thunderjaw corpse with considerably more grace than Aloy had.

“Looting this Thunderjaw,” Aloy replied. “Can you give me a hand?”

Ikrie hesitated - this Thunderjaw hadn’t been blessed by a shaman - then shook her head briskly. _Who cares?_ she thought belligerently. There was no shaman to boss her around now. She was a snow-ghost, free to do what she wanted. With a hint of rebellion, Ikrie plopped down on her knees beside Aloy. 

Once again, Aloy demonstrated all the skill of a shaman; she carved the useful parts from the Thunderjaw without a hint of hesitation and handed them to Ikrie. Then she carefully unscrewed a large canister of chillwater from the Thunderjaw’s undercarriage and handed it to Ikrie. “For the snow-skinned huntress,” Aloy said seriously. “To make up for what you used during the fight.”

“My thanks,” Ikrie replied with equal gravitas. She and Aloy gazed at each other for a moment, then suddenly they both snickered. 

Ikrie shoved Aloy’s shoulder lightly as Aloy turned back to the Thunderjaw. “You didn’t need me for this fight at all, did you?”

Aloy looked at her in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

IKrie snorted and sat back to watch as Aloy carefully reeled a length of wire from the Thunderjaw’s bowels. “You’re a solitary hunter. You’ve travelled far from Nora land, which means into the Sundom. There’s no way you’ve travelled that much without taking down a Thunderjaw on your own.” Ikrie raised her eyebrows. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Aloy hesitated, then laughed ruefully. “Yeah. It’s true. I just brought you along for decoration,” she joked. 

Ikrie gave a bark of laughter and lightly chucked a snowball at Aloy’s back. “Nice. Well, next time we come across a Thunderjaw, I want to see you take it down by yourself. You can put on a show for me.” 

Aloy shot Ikrie a sly look from the corner of her eye. “Only if _you_ take one down on your own afterwards.”

Ikrie raised her chin arrogantly. “Challenge accepted.” She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into this challenge. Maybe Aloy would let her try that strange rope-throwing weapon… 

Aloy grinned, then returned her attention to the Thunderjaw. Ikrie watched as Aloy finished looting the Thunderjaw, but her mind was occupied with one fact: that there were no more Thunderjaws in the Cut. If she and Aloy were really going to beat each other’s challenges… 

_I wonder how far a snow-ghost can wander?_ Ikrie thought to herself.

********************

Later that night, Aloy and Ikrie were settling down for the night with a fire in front and Aloy’s little tent at their backs. Aloy had shot a turkey for their dinner, and Ikrie had insisted on seasoning and roasting it. Aloy was only too happy to let Ikrie cook; she’d never been a huge fan of the time it took to cook, impatient as she was. 

But sitting by the fire and watching Ikrie cook was… nice. Aloy felt oddly comforted as she watched her Banuk friend skillfully turning the turkey on a spit. It wasn’t hard for Aloy to understand why she felt so cozy; the last time she’d had anyone cook for her like this, at a fireside with a warm bed (or bedroll) waiting for her, was at her secluded mountaintop cabin with Rost. 

This homey feeling was probably why Aloy had an urge to shift over beside Ikrie and to lean against her for comfort, the way she used to do with Rost. In all his sternness of manner, Rost had rarely ever reciprocated the mild gesture of affection, and Aloy couldn’t help but wonder what Ikrie would do if Aloy _did_ lean against her. 

Aloy ran a hand through her hair as though to push away the thought with her fingers, but she couldn't help but enjoy her relaxed, comfortable feeling. It was so _rare_ for Aloy to feel this relaxed, even when she was travelling alone. But being around Ikrie just felt easy. Aloy was still marvelling at how blissfully _normal_ Ikrie had acted when Aloy had told her about her Focus earlier today. Aloy had felt such a huge rush relief that she’d almost burst into tears, and she was violently grateful for Ikrie’s timely sense of humour. And yet…

_If she could hear about the Focus without getting all worship-y or scared, then maybe I can tell her… other things,_ Aloy thought. Maybe she could tell Ikrie about GAIA… and about Elisabet. 

A pang of mixed fear and excitement hopped in Aloy’s belly, and she bit her lip as she studied Ikrie’s serious face. Ikrie was frowning as she carefully used a small pine bough to brush the meat with a combination of turkey fat and seasonings. Her fine lips were pouted with concentration, the firelight dancing over her freckles, and Aloy swallowed hard to quell the welling of hope in her chest.

Then Ikrie leaned back. “This needs a bit more time,” she told Aloy. “Another ten minutes, maybe more.” She lay back in the snow and sighed happily. 

Aloy followed suit, pulling up her fox-fur cape to protect her hair from the snow. Together the two women gazed up at the stars in silence. 

Then Ikrie spoke. “There’s Banukai. She’s bright tonight.”

Aloy glanced over at Ikrie, who was pointing up at the sky. Aloy looked up again and narrowed her eyes. “Which star is it?” 

“Not just one star,” Ikrie amended. “It’s a constellation. Here, come lie beside me. I’ll show you.” 

Aloy swallowed a sudden pang of nerves, then shuffled over to lie side-by-side with Ikrie. Ikrie pointed up again and tilted her head closer to Aloy’s. “See that cluster of stars there? The especially bright ones?” she murmured. “That’s Banukai. Or, I mean, it’s supposed to be.” She gave a little huff of laughter. “I don’t know what the shamans were smoking when they named the constellations, but that’s supposed to be her head.” She turned her head to look at Aloy. “You know the story of Banukai?”

“Yes, actually,” Aloy replied. She kept her eyes on the sky as she spoke to Ikrie; somehow she felt like turning her head and meeting Ikrie’s sparkling grey-and-umber eyes would break the calm of this night, and she was enjoying it too much. “I heard a shaman telling the tale when I was in Song’s Edge.” 

“Ooh. I bet it was a colourful telling,” Ikrie murmured.

Aloy glanced quizzically at Ikrie. Her voice was neutral but with a tinge of sarcasm, and Aloy couldn’t help but wonder at the meaning behind it. For the second time, Aloy wondered again whether Ikrie was a strong believer in the Blue Light. Aloy couldn’t help but guiltily hope that she wasn’t; it would make it much easier to tell Ikrie about GAIA and HEPHAESTUS and Thunder’s Drum… 

“Do you believe the tale of Banukai? And the Blue Light animating the machines and all of that?” The words slipped out of Aloy’s mouth before she could stop them, and she winced slightly. She could be so blunt sometimes.

But Ikrie didn’t seem to mind; at the very least, she didn’t immediately balk at Aloy’s question. Ikrie was quiet for a long time, and eventually Aloy turned her head to look at her. 

Finally Ikrie spoke. “You know what? I never really thought about it. At least not until recently.” She shifted slightly and folded her arms under her head. “When I was growing up, it’s all we were told. That Banukai sacrificed herself to bring our shamans the gift of the Blue Light, and to respect her gift by respecting the machines.” She shrugged. “I never questioned it. It makes as much sense as anything when you’re a kid. But…” She trailed off for a moment, and Aloy waited quietly for Ikrie to finish her thought. 

Then Ikrie spoke again. “Then _you_ come along, Aloy. You’re no shaman, but you know more about the machines than they do. You control them, you… you understand how they work. Like, you _really_ get them. But you haven’t been blessed by the Blue Light. No offense,” she added, then shot Aloy a playful smirk. 

Aloy huffed quietly with amusement. “None taken.” But her heart was beating faster at the direction of Ikrie’s musings.

Ikrie snickered, then fell silent again. “I don’t know, Aloy,” she said finally. “Things I thought I used to know… Everything’s changing. I just took it for granted that the machines were sacred vessels of the Blue Light… then you use their own weapons against them and loot them without a blessing, and you’re perfectly fine.” She paused, then added, “I always thought I’d be with Mailen through thick and thin. And that’s not true anymore either.” 

Aloy glanced at Ikrie again, worried that she’d upset Ikrie with her line of questioning, and she felt a pinch of dismay: a tear was tracking down the side of Ikrie’s face, and yet she was smiling. Then Ikrie turned to look at Aloy, and her bittersweet smile made Aloy’s chest ache. 

“Change is good, don’t you think?” Ikrie said huskily.

Aloy swallowed hard. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”

Ikrie’s smile widened, and she gently brushed away her tears before turning her face back to the sky. The two women lay in silence again for a time. 

Then Ikrie spoke again, and her voice was bright and cheerful again. “What about the Nora, Aloy? What stories do they have about the stars?”

Aloy huffed dismissively. “Nothing worth telling. But _I_ think the sun is a star.” 

Ikrie turned her head and stared at Aloy. “What makes you think that?”

Aloy shrugged and folded her arms behind her head in an unconscious imitation of Ikrie’s posture. “The stars are in different locations in different places in the world, right? And the sun moves in different places at different times of day. So it just makes sense that the sun is a closer star, and the other stars are just much farther away. And I mean, come on. They’re all shining lights in the sky.”

Ikrie was silent for a moment, and Aloy suddenly felt awkward. Now Ikrie was _really_ going to think she was weird. 

Then Ikrie suddenly snorted. “You know what? That makes complete sense. I don’t know why I never thought of that before. Now I feel kind of stupid.” Suddenly she was laughing, and then Aloy began to laugh as well, though more with relief than actual mirth. 

“Don’t ever tell the Carja that, though,” Aloy quipped. “They’ll think it’s blasphemy.”

Ikrie smirked. “It’s a good thing there aren’t many Carja this far north, then. And I won’t be running into any when I go back to Ban-Ur.”

Aloy opened her mouth to speak, then bit her tongue. Her relief and mirth were suddenly dampened by the thought of Ikrie going back to Ban-Ur. 

_You knew she’d be going home eventually,_ Aloy scolded herself. Besides, it wasn’t like Aloy really wanted a travel partner. She had things to take care of when she left the Cut, especially after her conversations with CYAN, and she travelled much faster on her own. 

But some of the things Ikrie had said… _I’ll make you a sling,_ Ikrie had said. And if they were going to go hunting Thunderjaws together… 

For the umpteenth time that day, a burst of hope ignited in Aloy’s chest, and she couldn’t help but wonder how far a snow-ghost might be willing to travel for the thrill of the hunt.


	6. Match

The next morning dawned clear and bright. The sun’s cheerful rays were shattered into a million sparkles of light by the snow, and Aloy squinted against the glare as she and Ikrie broke their fast with leftover roasted turkey and dried figs. 

Ikrie wiped her fingers clean with a handful of snow, then took a sip of hot freeze rime tea. “So, Aloy. Where are you headed next?”

Ikrie’s expression was benign and open and not at all expectant, and Aloy felt a small jolt of dismay at the implication that they’d be parting ways. “Well, I want to go to Longnotch. There’s a weapons expert there who said she’d upgrade my Icerail if I could bring her a Thunderjaw mandible. You should come meet her,” Aloy added casually. “You two could talk shop.” She brushed idly at the snow on her coat as she waited for Ikrie’s reply.

Ikrie perked up, and Aloy released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Sounds good!” Ikrie said. “I haven’t visited that part of the Cut yet, either. It’ll be something new.” 

Aloy couldn’t help but feel relieved as they packed up. She could certainly have continued her journey on her own, but with Ikrie’s company, travelling felt less like an unending list of tasks she needed to do, and more like… fun. 

Aloy thought about this as she and Ikrie packed up their bedrolls and tent. Ever since she’d left the Sacred Lands, Aloy’s travels had carried a sense of urgency. There was always a pressing need to move on and help the next person in need, unlock the next Cauldron, decimate the next bandit camp, disable the next insane subfunction hellbent on destroying humanity… Although Aloy was grateful that she’d left the Sacred Lands and learned as much as she had about the rest of the world, her journey could hardly be called restful. 

During these past two days, on the other hand, Aloy had actually been able to _enjoy_ hunting in a way she hadn’t since she was very young, or when she was at the Hunting Grounds. Aloy also couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten such a good night’s sleep. She’d even slept in today, waking after the sun had fully risen - hence the snow-glare she was shielding her face from as she and Ikrie loaded their weapons onto their backs. 

Aloy brushed her hair back and turned to Ikrie. “Do you feel ready to ride your own Charger yet?”

Ikrie hesitated, then winced. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow?”

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to quell the smile that was threatening to break across her face. “Sure,” she said. She whistled to summon a Charger, then waited for Ikrie to mount the machine before vaulting up behind her and resting her hands gently on Ikrie’s hips for balance. 

The next few days slid by in an enjoyable flow of unhurried travel as Aloy and Ikrie headed southeast towards Longnotch. They stopped along the way so Aloy could give Enjuk Recreations the final effigies for his creature collection, and took multiple breaks to hunt machines. Aloy continued to marvel at how seamlessly she and Ikrie were able to hunt together: they rarely had to discuss strategy first, setting up kills and watching each other’s backs as though they’d been hunting together for years. The last time Aloy had spent this much time hunting with a partner was with Rost, but she’d stopped letting him accompany her during her hunts by the time she was thirteen. She’d been so focused on the Proving and on being the perfect hunter that accepting help from Rost had felt like admitting to weakness. But it didn’t feel that way with Ikrie. 

Aloy attributed this entirely to Ikrie’s easy manner: the Banuk huntress acted so much like hunting with a partner was _natural_. Aloy couldn’t help but wonder how Ikrie had become such a good cooperative hunter, given how hellbent the Banuk seemed to be on independent survival. 

One afternoon, while Aloy looted a Trampler and Ikrie rearranged their resource pouches, Aloy decided to ask Ikrie about this apparent contradiction. “Ikrie, how are you so good at hunting with a partner? I thought the Banuk frowned on hunters helping each other.”

Ikrie winked at Aloy. “I’m a little renegade, that’s how. Couldn’t you tell?”

Aloy snorted a laugh, and Ikrie laughed as well and stretched her arms leisurely. “Seriously though, the Banuk _do_ accept help from each other, after they’ve proven that they don’t need it.” 

Aloy raised one eyebrow. “What?” she said flatly. She handed another coil of wire to Ikrie.

Ikrie carefully tucked the wire into her pouch as she replied. “Yeah. I mean, when we’re small we learn to hunt from the elder hunters - mostly we watch when we’re young, and then eventually we switch roles, so we hunt while the elders watch. Once you join a werak, you often hunt as a group. But you _have_ to prove yourself worthy of joining a werak by completing an ordeal on your own.”

“An ordeal that can kill you,” Aloy muttered resentfully. She _really_ disliked this Banuk tradition of survival trials. 

Ikrie shrugged. “It never made sense to me either. But… I don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot. And… I think I get it now.” Ikrie swallowed visibly, then quietly she said, “I think I understand why… why Mailen hated me towards the end. I made her think she wasn’t strong.”

Aloy frowned. “But you were only trying to help her. Strong hunters _should_ help those who need it.” That was Rost’s last lesson to her, and she’d followed it faithfully since leaving the Sacred Lands.

Ikrie sighed. “I know, but… Aloy, you’re an _amazing_ hunter. Your skill isn’t all learned. But Mailen…” Ikrie awkwardly scratched the back of her hooded neck. “She was good, but it took time. And in my eagerness to help her… I was too eager. I should have let her figure things out on her own, the way I did.” She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Too much help can be a poison. It saps a hunter’s strength.”

Aloy bit her lip and didn’t reply; Ikrie made a good point. After all, Aloy had refused to let Rost help her after a certain point, for that exact reason: she didn’t want to _need_ his help anymore. And Rost himself had used a similar tactic as the Banuk the first time he’d introduced her to a Sawtooth. _He said he wouldn’t help me, no matter what happened,_ Aloy thought. Maybe Aloy was being unfair towards the Banuk. It seemed that Aloy’s upbringing with Rost had been more _Banuk_ than she’d realized.

But Rost’s death made Aloy see the Sawtooth incident in a different light: he’d saved her life at the Proving after saying he was leaving her forever. Aloy couldn’t help but wonder if Rost would have helped her with the Sawtooth after all, if she’d needed it. 

“Mailen didn’t hate you.” The words slipped out of Aloy’s mouth before she realized she was planning to say them. She lifted her eyes to Ikrie’s pale face. “I spoke to her at Keener’s Song,” Aloy said quietly. “After your ordeal. She was… well, she was Mailen. She’s not the friendliest huntress I’ve ever met.” 

Ikrie let out a strangled little laugh, and Aloy’s ears warmed with embarrassment; she wasn’t saying this right. “What I mean is, she was all stern and Banuk, but… Ikrie, she was sad. She hid it as best she could, but she _was_ sad. It wasn’t easy for her to leave you.” 

“But she did,” Ikrie blurted. A tear rolled down her face, and she turned away from Aloy as she wiped her face roughly with her gloved hand. 

Aloy shuffled closer to her friend. “I know,” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t care about you. You’re just… such different people. Mailen’s very Banuk.” Ikrie sobbed out another little laugh, and Aloy smiled. “You know what I mean. She’s proud, she’s stern, she believes in tribal law. But you…” Aloy hesitated as she watched another tear roll down Ikrie’s pale cheek, like a trickle of meltwater over a sheet of shadow-freckled snow. Aloy’s heart was pounding with painful empathy, but also with another feeling she was afraid to fully acknowledge.

“You’re warm. You’re funny and you’re fun, and you follow your own mind, and you’re just…” Aloy trailed off awkwardly, then finally took a deep breath and said, “Mailen didn’t hate you. You just weren’t a good match. You deserve a good match.” 

Ikrie gazed at Aloy without replying. Another tear was slowly tracing down her face. Suddenly Aloy wanted to reach out and brush away the evidence of Ikrie’s sadness with the pad of her thumb. Instead she twisted her hands together idly, feeling oddly defenseless. 

Finally Ikrie spoke. “Aloy… thank you.” She wiped her face. “You’re right, you know. We… Mailen and I were growing apart. I was just too stubborn to see it. But I…” She paused and gave another watery little laugh that made Aloy’s throat ache. “She was so good at hiding. I really thought…” 

Aloy shook her head. “She didn’t hate you,” she repeated. “She told me you were her only friend. You grew up together, Ikrie. No matter how different you are now, there’s nothing that would erase that.” 

Ikrie nodded silently while Aloy spoke. After a long, quiet moment, Ikrie heaved a huge sigh, then reached out and pulled Aloy into a hug. “Thanks, Aloy,” she murmured. “You’d think I’d be used to being left behind by now, what with the parents and everything.” She laughed in an obvious attempt at levity, but this only made Aloy’s heart ache even more. 

_I won’t leave you._ The thought took Aloy by surprise in its fierceness, and for a split second she was afraid she’d said it out loud. After all, she and Ikrie had only really known each other for a week or so. Furthermore, Aloy was headed back to the Sundom again after she left the Cut, and Ikrie was bound for Ban-Ur. There was no place here for empty promises. 

Tentatively Aloy returned Ikrie’s hug, patting her gently on the back until Ikrie pulled away with a smile. “ _Anyway,_ ” Ikrie said brightly. “Let’s get back to this Trampler and be on our way, hey? Is your Focus picking up any interesting prey nearby?”

Aloy smiled and turned back to the half-looted Trampler. “How do Bellowbacks and Stalkers suit you?”

“Hah! After a Scorcher and a Thunderjaw? A Bellowback is nothing,” Ikrie proclaimed. “We should handicap ourselves for the Stalkers. No tearblast arrows.” She waggled her eyebrows cheekily at Aloy.

Aloy smiled. Already Ikrie knew that tearblast arrows were one of Aloy’s favourite types of ammo. “You’re hitting me where it hurts,” she quipped. 

Ikrie punched her lightly in the arm. “Ahh, it’s good for you. Builds character! What do you say?”

Aloy chuckled. “All right, ice hunter, you’re on.”

******************************

“... and with the Thunderjaw mandible in place, the chillwater stream is more controlled, more focused. Aloy will be able to freeze a machine so much faster now - probably in half the time it used to take before!” Varga turned to Aloy with shining eyes. “What was your average freeze time with this weapon, Aloy?”

Ikrie smirked fondly at Aloy. Ikrie and Varga had been talking about weaponscraft for quite some time now, and Aloy had been listening carefully while crafting a new batch of fire arrows. 

Aloy grimaced apologetically at Varga and gave a tiny shrug. “Honestly? I rarely use it. I couldn’t tell you.” 

Varga gaped at Aloy in total dismay, and Ikrie couldn’t help but laugh at Varga’s expression. “You… you haven’t used this beauty? But she’s a work of art! Especially now that I’ve fixed her up!” Varga tilted her head, and Ikrie laughed harder at the look of utter disappointment on Varga’s face. “Aloy, how _could_ you?” 

Ikrie punched Aloy gently in the shoulder. “This girl’s got a spirit of fire. She can’t be bothered with a little cold.”

Aloy smirked and wrapped a piece of blaze-dampened gauze around the arrowhead in her hands. “Well, why do I need an Icerail if I have a snow-ghost to freeze machines for me?”

Ikrie pretended to flick a bit of snow from her sleeve in a nonchalant manner. “What can I say? It’s good to know I’m useful for something.” 

Aloy grinned at her, and Ikrie suddenly felt warmed from the inside. It was as though a fire in her belly had dwindled into embers, but when Aloy smiled, that rare and _disarming_ expression of happiness on her face seemed to stir something inside of Ikrie, lifting the embers with a new breath of hope. 

The warmth in Ikrie’s belly spread to her cheeks, and she wrestled her face into a neutrally pleasant expression as she turned back to Varga. “I’ll make sure she tries it out. It’s a crime to leave such a high-mech weapon untested.”

“ _Thank_ you, Ikrie. _Yes,_ ” Varga said emphatically. She handed the Icerail reverently to Aloy, who slid it carefully onto the holder on her back. Then Varga tilted Ikrie a curious look. “I’ve had a look at some of the Banuk’s bows, but I’ve never had pleasure of examining one of your slings. Would you mind?”

“Of course,” Ikrie agreed, and she handed Varga her sling. Varga handled the weapon with the same care that a shaman would handle a Thunderjaw lens, which Ikrie appreciated. “Wow,” Varga breathed. “This weapon really looks like it was made for you. The grips, the size…”

“She _did_ make it,” Aloy piped up. “Made it herself when she was sixteen.”

There was a distinct note of pride in Aloy’s voice, and Ikrie bit the inside of her cheek to hide her goofy grin. 

Varga smiled at Ikrie appreciatively. “You’re a low-mech expert yourself, then! Fantastic. What’s your average freeze time?”

“Five seconds tops,” Ikrie replied. It was common knowledge that freeze time was counted by the time it took to stop a Watcher in its tracks. 

Varga whistled. “Damn. That’s amazing. Especially for a low-mech weapon. You might be just as fast as the Icerail. Faster, even!” 

“High-mech and low-mech - what does that mean?” Aloy asked. “I’ve heard that before in passing, but I never knew what it meant.”

“‘Mech’ means ‘mechanical’,” Varga explained eagerly. “You can think of it like the number of moving parts in the weapon. So the Icerail and the Forgefire, or an Oseram canon, or even your Carja ropecaster there, those are high-mech. Slings and bows - well, most bows anyway - are low-mech.” Varga gestured her to herself. “High-mech expert...” Then she jerked a thumb at Ikrie. “... and low-mech expert.” 

“And Aloy is deadly with them all,” Ikrie added, with another friendly nudge to Aloy’s shoulder. 

Aloy smirked and tossed her hair with mock-nonchalance. “Well, it’s good to know I’m useful for something.” 

All three women laughed, and again Ikrie admired the relaxed expression of happiness in Aloy’s face. Aloy’s hard shell of wary tension seemed to be cracking bit by bit as the week wore on, and Ikrie was glad for it. Ikrie was happy to wait until Aloy felt comfortable sharing more about herself, but from the little that Aloy had told her, one thing was clear to Ikrie: Aloy deserved to have some fun. 

Ikrie and Aloy chatted with Varga for the rest of the afternoon and had their evening meal with her, then Varga returned to her tent to work on a new Forgefire for herself. Ikrie and Aloy sat happily by the fire sipping their beverages: a sweet-and-bitter mixture of freeze rime tea with a splash of Scrappersap from Varga’s personal stock. 

“This was fun,” Ikrie remarked. “Varga’s really interesting. I’ve never met an Oseram woman before. The few Oseram merchants I ever saw in Ban-Ur were men.” 

Aloy nodded. “Most of the Oseram are a lot of fun. They’re down to earth, they speak their minds… It’s refreshing. Wait until you meet Petra. She’s like Varga, but a bit older - the stories she can tell about Meridian and the Carja Wars…” Suddenly Aloy trailed off and her cheeks flamed red, and Ikrie stared at her in alarm. “Aloy? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Aloy said hastily, but she tugged awkwardly at one of her braids before taking a few hasty gulps of her beverage. Finally she lowered her cup and tugged her braid again, then blurted, “Do you want to come south with me?” 

Ikrie grinned, but Aloy continued in a rush. “I know you were planning to go back to Ban-Ur. But if you wanted to travel a bit… You said you wanted to know what it would be like to go wherever you felt like, and I thought maybe you’d want to come… I mean, I have to go back to the Sundom anyway, I could show you around…”

“Aloy,” Ikrie interrupted, “Of course I’m coming with you. How else are we going to hunt Thunderjaws?”

Aloy gazed at Ikrie silently for a second, then her entire body relaxed as a brilliant smile lit her face. “Exactly what I was thinking,” Aloy said. 

Ikrie laughed shoved Aloy playfully. “What kind of huntress would I be if I turned down a challenge? And besides, you mentioned all these other machines - Corruptors and Deathbringers? I want to see those!”

The amusement abruptly faded from Aloy’s face, and she grimaced. “Mm… I can’t show you those. They aren’t active anymore.” She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “It’s a long story.”

“If I’m coming south with you, there will be time for you to tell it,” Ikrie said firmly. She knew how guarded Aloy was, but Ikrie wanted to know more about her mysterious Nora friend. 

Aloy bit her lip, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” She segued into a thoughtful silence.

Ikrie smiled to herself and sipped her beverage. Then Aloy spoke again. “You know what, now that I think of it… You’ve never seen a Stormbird, have you?”

Ikrie’s eyes widened with excitement. “No. What’s a Stormbird like?”

Aloy threw her head back and _laughed_. As usual, Ikrie couldn’t help but laugh in response, even as her chest tightened with a sudden squeeze of affection that took her breath away. 

Aloy grinned at Ikrie. “Stormbirds are my favourite machines,” Aloy said excitedly. “I can’t wait to introduce you. This is going to be _great._ ” 

She sounded more animated than Ikrie had ever heard, and Ikrie swallowed hard. A burst of longing had ignited the fire in her belly, and she had a sudden urge to wrap her arms around Aloy, to smooth her thumbs over Aloy’s smiling cheeks and wipe away the residual caution that usually resided just beneath her eyes. 

Ikrie gulped down the rest of her drink and stood. “Well, what are we waiting for? We’ve got machines to meet.” 

Aloy slugged back the rest of her beverage as well. “We should be able to make it halfway to Song’s Edge before it really gets dark,” she said. “I’ll race you!”

Ikrie laughed and playfully slung her arm around Aloy’s neck. “You’re on!” 

At the edge of the settlement, Aloy whistled to call a pair of Chargers. Once the Chargers had arrived, Aloy slung herself onto her mount’s back with a careless grace. She tossed her hair back and smiled boldly at Ikrie. “Come on, snow-ghost, let’s get going.” 

Ikrie grinned up at Aloy. Her pulse was racing, and she felt jittery with excitement and happiness as she hopped onto her Charger and kicked its sides. Ikrie wondered if she should feel sad at the idea of leaving behind her home and everything she’d ever known, but all she could think about was the adventure that lay before her: a new land and new machines to discover with her new friend. 

And maybe, if Ikrie was really honest with herself, there was something else new as well: a new seed growing in her heart that was a more than just a passing crush.


	7. Partners

A week after leaving Longnotch, Aloy and Ikrie were carefully scaling their way down the path from the Cut back into the Sacred Lands. Ikrie couldn’t stop grinning as she carefully followed Aloy down the last cliff wall that would lead them to the official border of Nora territory. As they’d gotten closer to the border, Aloy had become more talkative, telling Ikrie enthusiastically about the strange but delicious food in Meridian, the Hunting Grounds and their challenges, and the fascinating shift in climate from snow to sand to sultry jungle.

Ikrie was looking forward to tackling all the strange things that Aloy was describing, but she was even more pleased to see how relaxed and cheerful Aloy seemed to be. But Ikrie also couldn’t help but notice that Aloy was only telling her about the Sundom. Aloy had spent most of her life in the Sacred Lands, and yet she’d barely spoken of her native land.

It was mid-afternoon when Aloy and Ikrie reached the base of the cliff. Ikrie strode eagerly to the edge of the path, her mouth already open in awe as she stared at the _gargantuan_ machine that loomed over the mountain to the left. The machine had multiple long, thick appendages, some of which curved back into the mountain and others which arced down towards the mountain’s base. 

Ikrie forced herself to inhale deeply. She’d never seen a machine like this before. It was so huge she couldn’t tell where it started and ended. “What _is_ this?” she breathed. 

Aloy slowly walked over to her side. “It’s called a Horus,” she said quietly. “The Nora call it a Metal Devil, and the Carja call it the Buried Shadow, but the proper name that the Old Ones gave it is a Horus.” 

“A Horus. Wow.” Ikrie tilted her head curiously. “Did your Focus tell you that?” 

Aloy nodded. “These… bunkers of the Old Ones, sites like this one here, they have special machines. Panels that I can scan with the Focus to get information.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “There’s a bunker here?” Eagerly she jogged down the path until she spotted a cave entrance, partially obscured by the Horus’s metal plates. Cautiously Ikrie approached the entrance; it was dark inside, and Ikrie couldn’t make out how deep the tunnel went. “How deep does this bunker go, Aloy? What’s inside?”

“Death,” Aloy said bluntly. 

Ikrie turned and looked carefully at Aloy. Aloy was standing a few metres back from the entrance, her arms folded and her face impassive. She looked as stern and serious as she had when Ikrie had first met her, but now that Ikrie knew Aloy better, she could see the slight hunch in Aloy’s shoulders, the hint of defensiveness in her posture. 

“What do you mean?” Ikrie asked gently. 

“There are dead soldiers from ancient times in there,” Aloy explained. “And a dead Deathbringer deeper inside.” She shrugged in a would-be casual manner, but her eyebrows were tilted upwards slightly, lending a melancholy cast to her stern features. 

Ikrie frowned slightly. She was desperately curious to see this Deathbringer, this machine with such an epic name, but Aloy’s face was closed more tightly than a frozen waterskin, and she wasn’t meeting Ikrie’s eyes. It was obviously not a good time to push her for details. 

Ikrie glanced at the dark tunnel one last time, then turned and strolled back to Aloy’s side. “A cold dark cave filled with derelict machines. Nice introduction to the south! Feels just like home.” She elbowed Aloy jokingly. 

Finally Aloy’s posture relaxed, and she shot Ikrie a half-smile. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just…”

“It’s a long story. I know,” Ikrie said softly. “Tell me when you’re ready, Aloy. I’m interested in hearing whatever you want to tell.” Without thinking, Ikrie reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair back from Aloy’s forehead. 

Aloy’s expression melted into a look of unguarded surprise, and Ikrie flushed with embarrassment at her own presumptuous gesture. Flustered, she turned away from Aloy and looked at the steep path that led down the mountain. “So, should we head down? I’m looking forward to this so-called hot weather you keep talking about.”

Aloy huffed with amusement, and Ikrie glanced back, relieved and intrigued by the playful look on Aloy’s face. “Actually, I know a better way to get down,” Aloy said. “Follow!” She jogged towards the bunker entrance, then veered off to the left and grabbed a makeshift handhold on the side of the Horus. 

Ikrie followed Aloy as she climbed up the side of the Horus. “Uhh, I thought you wanted to descend the mountain. I think you’re going the wrong way.”

Aloy glanced over her shoulder at Ikrie, and Ikrie grinned at Aloy’s wrinkled nose. “Just follow, you lunkhead,” Aloy scolded playfully. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy this.” 

Ikrie snorted in amusement at the foreign insult, but she followed Aloy onto a metal platform. Ikrie rested her hands on the railing that bordered the platform and gazed out at the view: snow-covered hills and trees, a large frozen pond patrolled by a couple of Watchers and Glinthawks, and a herd of Chargers in the distance. To Ikrie’s amusement, it really did look like home. “It’s nice,” she said politely. 

Aloy huffed impatiently and elbowed Ikrie. “Not the view. _This._ ” She jerked her head towards one of the Horus’s long, convoluted limbs. “This is how we’re getting down to the base of the mountain,” she said, and unclipped a ziplining hook from her belt.

Ikrie’s eyes widened as she examined the Horus’s leg. Now that she studied it more carefully, she noticed the thick cable that ran the length of the underside of the Horus’s leg. She turned to Aloy with a grin. “Now _this_ is an introduction to the south.” 

Aloy smiled. “I couldn’t disappoint my Banuk guest. Now come on, let’s go!” Without further ado, Aloy leapt gracefully at the cable and slid away at high speed. 

Ikrie grinned as she pulled out her own ziplining hook and jumped off the platform towards the cable. The cold wind slapped her in the face as she picked up speed, and she narrowed her eyes against the chill even as she let out a raucous laugh of delight at the exhilarating, belly-jolting speed and steepness of the ride. A long, exciting minute later, she landed at the base of the mountain beside a grinning Aloy. 

Ikrie stood up straight and let out a breathless laugh. “That was great. I’d do that again! If only there was a way to get back up to the top without climbing it.”

Aloy laughed as well. “I thought the same the first time I did that.” She smiled at Ikrie, and Ikrie smiled helplessly back, feeling suddenly tongue-tied in the face of Aloy’s green-eyed warmth. 

Aloy jerked her head to the south. “Ready? We should be able to make it halfway to Dawn’s Sentinel before we have to camp for the night.”

“Let’s do it,” Ikrie agreed, and the two huntresses set off through the shallow snow towards the southeast. 

Aloy hummed quietly as they walked, and Ikrie smiled to herself but didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to embarrass Aloy or make her stop humming by pointing it out. Ikrie was pleased; Aloy seemed as happy as Ikrie felt. During their travel from Longnotch to Song’s Edge, Ikrie had suffered momentary flashes of anxiety that Aloy would change her mind and tell Ikrie she didn’t want her to come south after all, but now that they were here and Aloy was showing no signs of regret, Ikrie was finally allowing herself to fully relax and anticipate the adventure to come.

But Ikrie’s sense of adventure wasn’t the only thing that was growing. Her curiosity about her red-haired friend had remained largely unsated during their travels so far. They spent most of their time joking around, chatting about their common interests, and gently poking fun at their own tribes. They’d each talked a bit about their upbringing, but Ikrie had purposely kept the conversation light since Aloy tended to tense up when the topic became more personal. But now that they were skirting the edge of Nora land with no suggestion from Aloy to head further in, Ikrie wondered if maybe she’d avoided personal topics for too long. 

Ikrie took a deep breath. “Aloy?”

“Yeah?”

Ikrie hesitated for a moment; how to phrase this so it didn’t sound like she was interrogating Aloy? Finally she settled on a delicate approach. “Is there anyone you wanted to visit in Nora land before we head west?” 

“Oh. Um, no. Besides, I dropped by there before I came to the Cut, so... no.” Aloy tugged one of her braids, but instead of becoming withdrawn as Ikrie had feared, Aloy shot Ikrie an apologetic look. “The Nora don’t like outlanders,” she said bluntly. “Especially not after the massacre. Well, both massacres. We’re better off going west, trust me.”

Ikrie pulled an apologetic grimace of her own. “Right, right. I remember hearing something about that in Ban-Ur.” She trailed off in dismay as she realized how flippant she sounded. “I’m sorry, Aloy, that was… insensitive. I didn’t mean…” 

But Aloy was shaking her head. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “It was a while ago. And things are better now. Everyone is rebuilding.” She fell into a pensive silence, and Ikrie regretted the loss of her humming.

The two women continued to walk quietly for a while. Ikrie was still loathe to pry, but the gaps in her knowledge about Aloy were starting to feel more like chasms as they spent more time together. 

Ikrie was building her courage to ask Aloy a more direct question about her past, when suddenly Aloy spoke. “There’s another reason I don’t want to go to the Sacred Lands.” 

Ikrie looked quizzically at Aloy, and Aloy briefly made eye contact with her before tugging a braid again. “Do you remember I told you that the Nora worship a door?” 

Ikrie nodded, and Aloy continued, “Well, there’s this huge door inside of the All-Mother Mountain. That’s the Nora’s sacred mountain. They all think it’s the Goddess’s womb, but really, it’s a door. and I’m the only person who can open it. So the Nora all call me the Anointed One and they treat me like _I’m_ a goddess, and I hate it. But the ones who _don’t_ call me a goddess call me a motherless chuff instead. So no, we’re not going back to the Sacred Lands. Not unless they really need my help.”

Aloy said all of this in a rush, her voice becoming more hard and agitated as she went on, and finally Ikrie stopped Aloy with a hand on her arm. “Hey,” Ikrie said firmly. “It’s okay. We don’t have to go to the Sacred Lands. All I really want is some Meridian fruit salad anyway. You sold me on that.”

Aloy burst out laughing, and Ikrie grinned, satisfied at having broken the tense mood. As Aloy caught her breath, Ikrie continued in a more serious tone. “Really though, I’m sorry that the Nora are… like that. But why ‘motherless chuff’? That seems like a dumb insult.”

Aloy shook her head. “You don’t understand. Motherhood and matriarchy, it’s all the Nora care about. And I have no mother, so…” She exhaled heavily and continued walking, though at a more relaxed pace, and Ikrie fell into step with her again. “It’s a long story. I know I keep saying that,” Aloy said apologetically. “I’m… working up to it.”

Ikrie nodded acknowledgement, then elbowed Aloy playfully. “Well, you’re in luck. I have no mother either. We should make it our werak name: the Motherless Chuffs!”

Aloy snorted a laugh. “You know what, I like that. Taking an insult and turning it into a point of pride...” She smirked, then shot Ikrie a sly sidelong glance. “Our werak name, huh?” 

Ikrie shrugged with playful casualness. “Yeah, I guess I’ll accept you into my werak. A werak of two is better than a werak of one, after all.” 

Aloy smiled. “Well, thank you for this honour, ice hunter,” she said with mock seriousness, but Ikrie watched fondly as Aloy’s cheeks turned pink. 

“You’re welcome, fire hunter,” Ikrie replied, and admired the deepening colour of Aloy’s cheeks.

The two women continued their journey southwest. They neatly eliminated a trio of Glinthawks near the frozen pond, then quietly skirted the herd of Chargers. Late that afternoon, they paused at a campfire site for a snack. Aloy was in the midst of telling Ikrie an amusing story about a merchant in Meridian when she suddenly stopped mid-speech and narrowed her eyes. 

Ikrie looked at Aloy in alarm. “What is it?”

Aloy reached slowly for her spear with one hand and tapped her Focus with the other. “There’s someone nearby,” she whispered as she rose to a crouch and looked over her shoulder. Ikrie watched in confusion as Aloy’s posture relaxed, and she sighed. 

“Nil, I see you. Come out,” Aloy said in an exasperated tone.

 _Nil?_ Ikrie wondered. Then she recoiled with surprise as a strange man stepped out of a nearby copse of trees and sauntered towards them. 

Ikrie stared at the man. She’d never met a Carja before, but the man’s bright red-feathered headdress immediately tipped her off to his tribal affiliation. Despite the cold and the snow, he was wearing… very little clothing, to say the least: a vest, a scarf, light silk pants and sandals, and a sprinkling of machine armour. 

“Aloy,” he said politely. He smiled, and a chill ran down Ikrie’s spine; the expression didn’t quite meet his eerie grey eyes. “How fortunate that we should meet again, here on the cusp of another violent delight. You’re here to share in the spoils, aren’t you? I knew you had a taste for the hunt.”

Aloy looked at Ikrie with resignation. “Ikrie, this is Nil,” she said. “He’s a bandit hunter. Nil, this is my friend Ikrie. This is her first time leaving Ban-Ur.”

“A Banuk huntress? Hmm.” Nil tilted his head and studied Ikrie thoughtfully. “Fire and ice together: a potent combination. But I thought we were partners.” He shot Aloy a wounded look. 

Aloy rolled her eyes. “Some partners are better suited than others, Nil.” 

Ikrie’s cheeks warmed with pleasure at this comment, but she forced her face to stay neutral. She eyed Nil suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘violent delight’?” 

Nil raised his eyebrows at Aloy. “You didn’t tell your new partner of our spoils together? You wound me.” He placed a hand dramatically on his mostly-bare chest, but Ikrie narrowed her eyes; his playful manner seemed to be a very cultivated mask.

Aloy shook her head in amusement and turned to Ikrie. “We used to eradicate bandit camps together. It’s Nil’s favourite pastime.”

“ _Pastime?_ ” Nil exclaimed. He was staring at Aloy now in apparently genuine disbelief. He looked at Ikrie with wide silver eyes. “The blood-haired huntress calls it a pastime. It’s my vocation. My calling, if you will. Bandit blood pounds like a war drum, summoning my arrows and my blade to set it free. There’s nothing frivolous about it.” He shot Aloy a slightly resentful look, then looked at Ikrie again. “A bandit clan squats at an abandoned encampment just north of here. Would you care to accompany me?” He shifted his weight to one hip and raised his eyebrows persuasively at Ikrie. 

Aloy snorted. “Don’t drag her into your bloodthirsty games.” 

“It’s not for me. It’s for her benefit,” Nil replied innocently. “She’s new to our lands. Unhusked in the vicious ways of the south. It’s a good introduction.”

 _Unhusked?_ Ikrie thought in confusion. But before she could ask, Aloy tilted Nil an exasperated look. “ _Our_ lands? Might I remind you that you’re trespassing right now? This is Nora land.” 

Nil sighed. “Yes yes, trespassing on pain of death. We both know you won’t send me away.” 

Aloy rolled her eyes again but didn’t reply. Ikrie stood and brushed off her knees. “I’ll come,” she said boldly. 

Nil smiled another of those vicious grins that didn’t quite meet his eyes, and Aloy stood as well. “Ikrie, you don’t have to,” she said hastily. “Don’t let him goad you. He’s-” 

“- a simple traveller looking to make these lands safer for the Nora,” Nil interrupted smoothly. 

“You don’t care about anyone’s safety! Not even your own,” Aloy retorted. 

Ikrie broke in tactfully. “Aloy, I’ll go. I know a challenge when I hear one. Let’s see what’s so vicious about these lands of yours.” She raised her chin and shot Nil a bold look. Ikrie wasn’t particularly interested in joining this frankly _weird_ man into an apparent killing spree, but he and Aloy clearly knew each other quite well, and Ikrie was curious about anyone who knew Aloy. Besides, she wanted to show Aloy that she could handle herself in the south. 

Nil rubbed his hands together with relish. He shot Aloy a mocking smile. “Don’t worry, fire demon, I’ll bring your partner back in one piece. Painted with a few scarlet splashes, perhaps, but in one piece.”

Ikrie snorted and cockily shifted her weight to one hip. “Maybe it’ll be me bringing _you_ back in one piece, Carja.”

Nil laughed at her bolshiness, then jerked his head to the northwest. “Around this mountain range. There’s a secluded valley, well-fortified and writhing with bandit scum. Let’s be on our way, ice huntress. We don’t want to keep Aloy waiting for too long.” With one last playful smirk at Aloy, he strode off in the direction of the camp.

“Sorry about him, Ikrie,” Aloy murmured apologetically. “He’s gross, but mostly harmless, I promise.” 

Ikrie smiled at Aloy reassuringly as she checked her quiver and spear. “Don’t worry, Aloy. I was looking for an adventure, right? I’ll see you soon.” She hurried off after Nil. 

She caught up to him at the base of the valley. “So how long have you known Aloy?” she asked quietly. 

Nil shrugged. “A few seasons now,” he said vaguely. “She was just a tender Brave when we met. Now the blood of her enemies stains her every footstep. It’s been a pleasure to witness, like seeing a butterfly burst free of its cocoon.” 

Ikrie frowned slightly. Ikrie knew that Aloy was an expert machine hunter, and she knew Aloy had eliminated the bandits at Stone Yield in the Cut, but Aloy hadn’t said anything about personal enemies here in the south. 

“You know of the Eclipse War, don’t you?” Nil said, and Ikrie looked at him. His feral face held a strange air of anticipation, and Ikrie frowned more deeply. “I heard the rumours,” she replied cautiously. “Oseram merchants in Ban-Ur mentioned something about the Carja fighting each other again, and a demon…”

Nil chuckled darkly. The sound of his mirth reminded Ikrie of an ominously rolling thunderhead. “Oh, it was much more than that. Monstrous corrupted machines descended on Meridian in strength. They were led by Helis, the so-called Terror of the Sun. You’ve heard of him?”

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “Of course,” she said. Every Banuk knew of Helis; he was one of the most notorious slavers and murderers during the Red Raids, and one of the Mad King’s most celebrated warriors. “But he’s dead.”

Nil grinned. “Yes, he is. Because Aloy killed him.”

Shock rocketed through Ikrie’s chest. “She did?” she said dumbly. 

Nil nodded happily. “I wish only that I’d been there to see it myself,” he said. “The canvas his blood would have painted on the palace stones… I’m sure it was a work of art.” He sighed wistfully. “Unfortunately, I only heard the tale secondhand.”

Ikrie’s head was spinning with this new information. She knew Aloy had a complicated past, but she hadn’t known it included eliminating one of the most infamous murderers in recent history. 

_Forget this for now. Think about something mundane,_ Ikrie told herself fiercely. If she and Nil were about to go into a fight, she needed to be focused. “I’m surprised you weren’t at this big battle,” she said to Nil. “I would have thought, with your, er, proclivities…” She gestured vaguely at the bow that was already in his hand. 

“Oh, I was at the battle,” he reassured her. “I was simply otherwise occupied: I had blood and machine fluids of my own to spill. The wounds just opened themselves to my arrows.” He trailed off reminiscently, a pleasant little smile on his lips. 

Ikrie wrinkled her nose at him, and they continued the rest of their walk in silence. Eventually the torches from the bandit camp came into view, and Ikrie and Nil slid into some long grass to hide. Nil hunkered down beside Ikrie, apparently unaffected by the snow seeping into his sandals. “I’ll let you take the lead. I look forward to seeing what Aloy’s new partner is capable of.” He smiled as though he was giving her a treat.

Ikrie huffed in disdain - Nil was so _weird_ \- then eyed the camp. She and Nil crouched silently for a few minutes and watched the movements of the bandits. Then Ikrie finally turned to Nil. “You sneak closer when the patrollers turn their backs. Take them out with your knife. I’ll snipe the sentries. If they see us, you take point. I’ll follow up from a distance with my bow.” 

Nil grinned slowly at her, and Ikrie frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You and Aloy really are two arrows split from the same ridgewood tree,” Nil drawled quietly. “This is how we always attacked the camps together.” He gave a regretful little sigh. “Still, I can’t complain at being supplanted, as long as I get my share of the sanguine rewards.” Then he slid away silently towards the camp. 

Ikrie shook her head in exasperation, but she couldn’t help but smirk with pleasure at Nil’s comment: _two arrows split from the same ridgewood tree._ And Nil kept referring to her as Aloy’s new partner… 

_Come on, Ikrie, get your head in the game,_ she scolded herself. This was not the time to be mooning over her new friend like some teenager with her first crush. Besides, it was more obvious than ever now that Ikrie barely knew Aloy. The events Nil referred to were… huge, to say the least, but Aloy wasn’t comfortable sharing her stories yet. 

Ikrie exhaled sharply. _No time for that right now,_ she thought. Nil had already silently killed one of the ground patrols, and if Ikrie squinted, she could detect his shadow moving through the grass towards the next bandit. Silently she nocked an arrow and aimed at the closest and most isolated sentry. 

Half an hour later, Ikrie and Nil were headed back towards Aloy and the campfire: Ikrie without a drop of blood on her coat, and Nil liberally splashed in red from his headlong rush into the camp when their presence had finally been detected. 

“It’s a rush, isn’t it?” Nil said cheerfully. “Nothing quite matches the satisfaction of seeing your own reflection in a lifeless pair of eyes. But it’s such a fleeting joy.” He sighed dramatically. “It makes me wish that Aloy would start another war.” 

Ikrie frowned suddenly. “What do you mean by _that?_ ” 

Nil shot her a strange look. “Don’t you know? The Eclipse War happened thanks to her. She summoned warriors from across the known world to fight the machines. It was a wonderful gift.” Then he sighed again. “Then she delivered the final blow to end it all. Poetic justice, perhaps, but all too brief for my liking. Still, I take my battles where I can get them.” He tossed his knife jauntily in the air before sheathing it.

Ikrie was silent. Her mind was reeling again, spinning like a Scrapper’s jaws against a metal corpse. The enormity of what she _didn’t_ know was pressing on her mind, and she felt oddly betrayed somehow. _But that’s illogical,_ she thought. It wasn’t like Aloy had lied to her. Besides, Aloy didn’t owe her anything; it was Aloy’s story to tell when she was ready. Ikrie really believed that. 

But with all the hints that Aloy dropped, and now with this new information from Nil, Ikrie suddenly felt like she was walking blithely through a minefield. She thought back to earlier that afternoon when she’d asked Aloy about the bunker, how closed-off Aloy had become. How was Ikrie to know what was okay to talk about and what wasn’t if she didn’t have the context? 

Finally they returned to the campfire, and Aloy looked at them expectantly. “Well? How did it go?”

Nil answered before Ikrie could. “Very satisfying. Your new partner here is certainly worthy of the claim. Her skills are very reminiscent of another.” He gave Aloy a lingering look, which Aloy responded to with a _very_ unimpressed expression that made Ikrie snicker. 

Finally Nil smirked. “Well, I’ll be on my way. Those joyful crimson splashes won’t spill themselves. Aloy: it was good to see you again.” He then turned to Ikrie and nodded his head. “Ikrie, welcome to the south. May the Sun grace the burning path of destruction you’re both certain to leave in your wake. Just make sure you leave a little something for me.” Nil gave a genteel bow that conveyed a perfect combination of politeness and mockery, then turned on his heel and sauntered away.

Ikrie and Aloy watched him leave. Then Ikrie turned to Aloy, totally nonplussed. “What is _wrong_ with him?” she said. 

Aloy burst into laughter, and as always, Ikrie’s face melted into a smile in response. “I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Aloy chuckled. “I’ve never known him to be any other way.” 

Ikrie sat beside Aloy and took a dried fig from the wax-cloth that Aloy offered. “Is that what I should be expecting from the Carja?”

Aloy gave another bark of laughter. “Fire and spit, no. Nil is… a special case. The other Carja you meet will be more, well, _average._ ” She popped a fig in her mouth and tilted her head quizzically at Ikrie. “Do you want to stop here for the night, or continue west?”

Ikrie studied Aloy’s face. Aloy’s posture was relaxed, her expression happy… and Ikrie couldn’t stop thinking about what Nil had said. Aloy had killed the infamous Terror of the Sun. She’d summoned people to battle from across the world. _The Eclipse War happened thanks to her,_ Nil had said. Then she’d come to the Cut during a major crisis and become a Banuk Chieftain.

Ikrie gazed into Aloy’s guileless green-and-gold eyes. And suddenly all Ikrie wanted was to wrap Aloy in the shelter of her arms and never let her go.

Ikrie swallowed her heartache and smiled at her friend. “Let’s stop for now. We’re in no rush.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As I mentioned before, I'm complete trash for Nil, so of course he had to be the first person Ikrie meets from the south. Many meetings with Aloy's friends to come! I actually haven't really planned out who she'll meet next, so uh, bear with me while I waffle around and decide what happens next. xo


	8. Be

The next afternoon, Aloy and Ikrie were crouched on a low hill behind the cover of some boulders, their eyes following the predictable pacing of a Thunderjaw. 

Aloy raised her eyebrows at Ikrie. “Ready?” she whispered. Earlier that morning, she’d given Ikrie a quick lesson in using her Lodge ropecaster, and Ikrie had swiftly picked up the basics by practicing with a pair of Watchers. Now, Ikrie’s eyes glowed with anticipation as she watched the Thunderjaw’s slow and steady tracks. 

Ikrie nodded eagerly. She quickly patted her icebomb pouch - an unconscious habit that Aloy had fondly noticed. “I’m going in,” Ikrie murmured. 

Aloy gave her a tiny smile. “Take your prey, hunter,” she whispered. 

Ikrie shot Aloy a swift grin, and without further ado, she slunk off towards the Thunderjaw. Aloy settled down into a relaxed crouch and watched as Ikrie blasted off the disc launchers using tearblast ammo that Aloy had given her. Ikrie then ran towards the Thunderjaw with the ropecaster in hand and began tying it down. Some of Ikrie’s ropes missed their targets, and Ikrie was a little closer to the Thunderjaw than she needed to be when using the weapon, but in the space of minutes, the Thunderjaw was securely tethered. 

Aloy nodded approval as Ikrie swiftly swapped to her bow. Ikrie sprinted towards the Thunderjaw’s right side - the side where the fragile panel was often blasted away, revealing the heart - but just as Ikrie drew her bowstring tight, Aloy heard the characteristic sound of a rope snapping free. 

Ikrie’s eyes widened in alarm, but to Aloy’s satisfaction, Ikrie didn’t even pause; she managed to shoot the Thunderjaw’s heart with two well-aimed arrows before the beast roared with rage and lashed its freed tail, forcing Ikrie to roll out of range. 

Ikrie shook her head in disappointment. “I need more practice with the ropecaster! I’m going to do this the way I know how!” she yelled. 

Aloy didn’t bother to yell back a reply; she knew Ikrie didn’t expect one anyway. She watched avidly as Ikrie pulled out her sling and began blasting the Thunderjaw with icebombs. 

Aloy hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d bragged to Varga about Ikrie’s facility with the sling. Aloy genuinely had never seen anyone use a sling so quickly. In less than half a minute, the Thunderjaw was creaking and groaning against its chillwater-induced iceshell, and Ikrie grinned as she grabbed her bow again. This time she landed five arrows in the Thunderjaw’s heart before it spun towards her with a metallic screech of rage. 

But Ikrie only laughed as she scampered away before pulling her sling again. Aloy watched with swiftly growing admiration as Ikrie determinedly repeated the cycle four more times, finally rendering the huge metal beast to an inert pile of hoarfrost-covered scrap. 

Aloy jogged over to Ikrie’s side. Ikrie was bent over double, her hands braced on her knees as she panted for breath. She tilted her head to the side and shot Aloy a triumphant half-smile. “How was _that_ for a first-timer?” 

Aloy grinned helplessly back. Her heart was pounding with reflected excitement, and her stomach felt oddly tingly. Aloy knew she probably looked like an idiot with this stupid huge smile splitting her face in two, but she couldn’t help it: aside from that bigheaded braggart Ahsis, she’d never known anyone else aside from herself to take down a Thunderjaw single-handedly. _And Ikrie didn’t even use the Thunderjaw’s own disc launchers against it,_ Aloy thought. Truth be told, Aloy was deeply impressed.

Finally Aloy shrugged. “Not bad. You’ll be faster next time.” She shot Ikrie a mischievous look. 

Ikrie chuckled at Aloy’s obviously fake nonchalance and flopped down on the grass with a sigh of satisfaction. “What’s _your_ record, Aloy? I want to know what it’ll take to beat a Banuk chieftain.”

Aloy gave a bark of laughter. “Hah! All right, I see how it is. My best time is one minute, twenty-seven seconds.”

Ikrie’s jaw dropped, and she gave an incredulous laugh. “Okay then! Challenge accepted. It might take years for me to beat that, but I’ll take it.” 

Aloy smiled, then sat down beside Ikrie and rifled busily in her pouches for her dried figs. 

Ikrie sighed again as Aloy searched her pouches. “By the Blue Light, you were right about the heat. I’m sweltering.” 

Aloy smirked as she continued to rifle through her belongings. “Doesn’t help that you just had a major workout,” she reasoned. She finally found the dried fruit and turned back to Ikrie… and her heart gave a funny little jump in her chest.

Ikrie had pulled off her gloves and her headgear, and as Aloy watched, Ikrie pushed back her hood and revealed her hair: short, straight charcoal-black tufts that were cropped to hug her neck at the back. With a swift gesture that Aloy immediately recognized to be habitual, Ikrie rumpled her fingers through her hair, tugging forth tousled bangs that framed her forehead and cheekbones. Ikrie’s short hair lent her a gamine appearance that somehow matched her personality perfectly.

Ikrie shot Aloy a quick smile. “I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I had to run around that much while hunting. I prefer my stealth, as you know.” Then Ikrie raised one quizzical eyebrow. “Aloy, are you okay?”

Aloy hastily dropped her gaze, then cleared her throat. “Yeah. I, uh. You think it’s hot now? Really?” She looked around at their surroundings, grateful for the opportunity to _not_ stare witlessly at Ikrie. There was still snow on the ground in some places. “Wait until we reach the jungle. You’ll be taking off more than your gloves and hood,” Aloy said. 

She turned back to look at Ikrie again, and a peculiar and _pleasant_ feeling of both hot and cold ran down her spine as she met Ikrie’s eyes. Ikrie wore an expression that Aloy had never seen on her face before, and Aloy _liked_ it. It wasn’t just the smirk; Ikrie was constantly smirking as she and Aloy joked around. It was something in the angle of Ikrie’s chin, the quirk of her eyebrow, something about the look in her dark grey-brown eyes… 

Suddenly Aloy realized who Ikrie’s expression reminded her of. It was like the first time Erend had spoken to her.

_Desire._ Aloy recognized Ikrie’s expression at the same moment that she recognized the feeling that was simmering just beneath her own skin. Ikrie’s heated look of interest was very much like Erend’s, but this time, the feeling wasn’t one-sided. Aloy was frozen, breathless; her eyes were captivated by Ikrie’s burning gaze, but her attention was _everywhere_ : the long, straight tufts of Ikrie’s bangs, the delicate pink of her lips, her exquisitely freckled cheeks, her pale and surprisingly _un_ freckled hands with their slender fingers… 

“I’ll be taking off more clothes, huh?” Ikrie’s teasing voice held a sultry tone that reminded Aloy of Vanasha, and to Aloy’s pique, her face and ears were suddenly burning. 

She ducked her head and scratched the back of her neck in a weak attempt to hide her flushed face. The only experience Aloy had had with this kind of flirtation was deflecting it. It had never been _welcome_ before. “Yeah. You’ll have to strip to survive,” she said lamely. “I haven’t even gotten out my Carja armour yet.” Belatedly Aloy realized that her own words could be construed as flirtatious as well, and she roughly rubbed her nose to hide the stupid goofy smile that was suddenly tugging at her lips. 

Ikrie gave a gentle laugh, then reached over and tenderly ran her fingers through Aloy’s hair. “Can’t wait to see it,” she murmured. 

Aloy finally lifted her gaze to Ikrie’s face, and her heart leapt into her throat: Ikrie’s expression was still flirtatious, but there was a gentleness to her smile that made it hard for Aloy to breathe. Ikrie’s fingers were gently twined in her hair, and Aloy was frozen again, both excited and terrified at the strange but delicious tension that was stretching between herself and Ikrie. 

During the past few weeks of travel, Aloy had finally admitted to herself that she was hopelessly infatuated with Ikrie. But as much as Aloy and Ikrie were close, Aloy had never been certain whether Ikrie had _those_ kinds of feelings in return. Ikrie had always been friendly and affectionate, and Aloy hadn’t wanted to misinterpret Ikrie’s friendliness. Furthermore, Ikrie’s split with Mailen hadn’t been that long ago, and Aloy wasn’t sure what the process of grieving a breakup was like. But now, as Aloy basked in the warmth of Ikrie’s gaze and the strangely safe feeling of Ikrie’s slender palm at the back of her neck, Aloy felt a huge rush of relief: it was obvious now that this wasn’t something she was alone in. 

Ikrie bit her lower lip, and Aloy watched with anticipation as Ikrie took a deep breath. Then Ikrie suddenly grinned and punched Aloy amicably in the shoulder. “Well, if you’re going to show me that Carja armour, we’d better get to the Sundom, hadn’t we? How far to Dawn’s Sentinel?”

Aloy released the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and smiled. “Half a day’s ride, if we take it easy. But-” 

“-let’s make it shorter,” Ikrie interrupted cheerfully. 

Aloy’s smile widened. “Just what I was going to say.”

**************************

Late that night, after crossing the border into the Sundom, Aloy and Ikrie were lounging on their bedrolls and enjoying the stars. Aloy had offered to set up their tent, but Ikrie had declined, saying it was too hot for the tent and that she wanted to admire the Carja sky. 

“Aloy, what do the Carja think of the stars? Aside from the fact that the sun isn’t one of them.” Ikrie turned her head to smirk at Aloy. 

Aloy tucked her arms behind her head. “The priests think that the spirits of dead royalty rise up into the sky to become the stars and to be closer to the Sun. They think the bigger stars are kings and princes, and the smaller ones are the female nobles. Naturally.”

“Oh sure, naturally,” Ikrie deadpanned, and Aloy smirked before continuing. “Luckily a lot of the scholars disagree. I mean, it’s a dumb theory, right? The stars were there before the Carja were even their own tribe. How else would the Carja have found their way west?”

“Found their way west?” Ikrie asked. “What do you mean?”

Aloy frowned, then belatedly realized why Ikrie was confused. Her conversations with Ikrie were so seamless that Aloy sometimes forgot Ikrie didn’t have a Focus’s worth of information to draw from. Quickly she explained how the Carja had split off from the Nora after finding a tome of glyphs explaining how to navigate their way west via the stars.

“In all fairness, that’s the Carja story of what happened,” Aloy concluded. “The Nora story is… different. Not completely different, but…” Aloy huffed disdainfully, then briefly trailed off into silence before speaking again. “Why can’t anyone ever just tell things the way they are?” she demanded. “The Carja have their interpretation, and the Nora have theirs, but what’s wrong with the bare truth? Everyone always has to add their own colour to the story. Then suddenly it’s a huge, complicated tale of monsters and demons, when the reality is… much more humble.”

Ikrie was quiet for a long time, and Aloy waited patiently for her response. They’d been friends for long enough now that Aloy no longer feared Ikrie’s ridicule or rejection when she told Ikrie things that seemed implausible. More importantly, Ikrie always had an interesting perspective on the things Aloy told her.

Sure enough, Ikrie said, “Embellishing stories… it really is unavoidable, isn’t it? It’s like people can’t just take facts as _facts_. They need to weave a story. A colourful tapestry from the threads of truth.”

Aloy smiled over at Ikrie. “Poetic but true.”

Ikrie smirked, then sighed and looked up at the sky again. “What you’re saying though, it makes me think… If Banukai was a real person, I wonder if she and her werak were also originally from the Nora lands?” 

Aloy was silent. Eleuthia-9 was the only active Cradle in this part of the world, so Aloy was quite certain that the answer was a resounding _yes_. But as much as she was comfortable with Ikrie, Aloy still wasn’t quite sure how to even start explaining everything she knew about the Cradles and the Cauldrons… and Elisabet. 

The two women were quiet for a long moment, then Aloy spoke again. “Funny thing is, the Nora’s beliefs about the stars are similar to the Carja. Well, in a way. They think that every Nora who dies becomes a star. Unless you’re an outcast. Then you just… don’t exist.” 

She swallowed hard as an image of Rost’s gruff but kind face rose unbidden to her mind. Aloy didn’t believe in the Nora stories about the stars, but if anyone deserved to be immortalized as a star, it was Rost. And the Nora would never give his death that honour because he was an outcast. 

Aloy and Ikrie lay in silence for another long moment. When Ikrie spoke again, Aloy was surprised at the hesitancy of her voice. “Aloy… Nil told me that the Eclipse War was… well, he said you were in the middle of it.” 

Aloy heaved a heavy sigh. “I bet he was pleased to tell you that.”

Ikrie chuckled quietly. “Thrilled, actually. He was disappointed that it was over.” 

Aloy snorted. “‘Disappointed’ is an understatement. I ran into him a few weeks after the battle in Meridian. He was actually mad at me for ending the war.”

Ikrie laughed, and the two women fell quiet again. Then Ikrie spoke even more hesitantly than before. “Aloy, I don’t want to pry, but…” She trailed off, then slowly rolled onto her side to face Aloy. “I feel like I’m doing you a disservice by not knowing… what happened to you,” Ikrie said slowly. “I don’t want to push you. And… I mean… you don’t have to tell me. But do you _want_ to talk about what happened? About the war?” 

Ikrie’s voice was quiet and gentle, and Aloy took a deep breath. Truth be told, she had been building to this moment ever since they’d left the Cut. For Aloy, the beginning of her story was technically the easiest to tell - no Old Ones, no Elisabet, nothing abstract - but at the same time, this was the hardest: Rost’s death remained the darkest mark on her life to date. But Ikrie was right. Aloy had been putting it off for too long. She wanted Ikrie to know her story. 

_No,_ Aloy thought to herself sternly, _not my story. The truth. I want her to know the truth._

Finally she spoke. “Remember I told you about that splinter group of Carja who attacked the Sacred Lands? They attacked because of me,” she said bluntly. 

Ikrie didn’t reply, and Aloy glanced at her; Ikrie’s face was deadly serious, but her eyebrows were tilted with compassion, and Aloy took a deep breath before going on. “During the Proving, the Nora let some outlanders into Mother’s Heart for the first time since the Red Raids. One of them had a Focus, and he used it to send images of me to Helis. Helis also had a Focus,” she quickly explained. Then she sighed; this part was tricky to explain. “It was a case of… mistaken identity. They thought I was someone else. A threat. So they attacked the Proving to try and kill me. Instead, they killed almost everyone who ran in the Proving with me. And Rost.” 

Suddenly her throat was too thick to go on. Aloy pressed her lips together hard and stared fixedly up at the stars, trying hard to ignore the burning feeling in her eyes. She could feel Ikrie’s compassionate gaze on her face, and this prompted Aloy to speak again.

“I should have stopped him,” Aloy blurted. “Helis. I could have done more. I was awake when he… when Rost fought him. I should have staunched my wound, gotten up again. I could have helped Rost.” 

“What wound?” Ikrie whispered, and Aloy turned her head to the side and pointed wordlessly at the long scar on her neck. 

Aloy heard a soft shuffling as Ikrie shifted closer to her. Then Ikrie’s warm fingers were tracing the scar on her neck. Aloy swallowed hard at the gentle touch of Ikrie’s hand. 

“Aloy…” Ikrie’s voice was husky with dismay, and Aloy reluctantly turned back to face her friend. Ikrie’s face was pinched with sadness as she continued. “This wound… It’s a miracle _you_ survived. There’s no way you could have staunched this and then continued to fight. You know that. I know _you_ know that.” 

Aloy swallowed again and shook her head. “But if I’d-” 

Ikrie suddenly cupped Aloy’s face in her hands, and Aloy had no choice but to stare into Ikrie’s brilliant dark eyes. “ _No._ This wasn’t your fault, okay? You didn’t ask those Carja to attack the Nora. Horrible things happen, and it’s not… You couldn’t have stopped everything that happened. You’re only human, after all.”

_You’re only human._ No one had ever said this to Aloy before. She wasn’t _just human_ to anyone. She was the Nora’s Anointed, the Saviour of Meridian, the flame-haired machine tamer, the tank-grown replica of Elisabet Sobeck, but no one aside from Rost had ever thought of her as just… Aloy. 

Suddenly Aloy burst into tears, much to her own horror. She tried to turn away from Ikrie to hide her face, but suddenly Ikrie was right beside her, Ikrie’s arms were encircling her shoulders and pulling her close, and Aloy was sobbing into Ikrie’s coat.

“Hey,” Ikrie crooned softly. She stroked Aloy’s hair and gently tucked Aloy’s head under her chin. “I know you, Aloy. I know you did everything you could. It’s over now.” 

Ikrie’s words were soothing, but perversely they only made Aloy cry harder. After everything Aloy had seen in the Cut, with HEPHAESTUS running free and GAIA Prime still cold and quiet… 

_It’s not over,_ Aloy thought. _I thought it was over after HADES was gone, but problems just keep appearing, and nobody else can fix them._ CYAN had given her crucial information that would help her to restore GAIA, but especially with Sylens stubbornly out of the picture - _and what in the Sun’s name is he up to?_ \- Aloy was the only one who could bring GAIA back.

And she hadn’t even started to tell Ikrie about GAIA and CYAN and Elisabet… 

Aloy clenched her fists and pressed the knuckles of one hand against her mouth to shove back the howl of absolute misery that was roaring to break free. Ikrie’s arms tightened around her, and she pressed her cheek against Aloy’s hair. “It’s okay, Aloy. You’re safe now,” she whispered. 

“You don’t know that,” Aloy gritted. 

“I know it right now,” Ikrie replied, and her tone was soft but emphatic. “You’re safe right now. There’s no fighting in this moment. No wars, no machines. You’re safe. You can just… be.” 

A sudden memory flashed through her mind: herself as a child, sitting by the hearth in the lonely cabin that Rost had built, with Rost’s arms around her and a fresh bandage over her right eyebrow. Aloy felt her muscles relax, even as a fresh sob erupted from her throat. Helplessly she wrapped her arm around Ikrie’s waist and buried her face in Ikrie’s coat. 

Aloy didn’t know how long she and Ikrie lay together under the stars, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Eventually Aloy’s tears wore down to weak hiccups, and to her surprise, she was utterly exhausted; somehow she felt as worn out as though she’d fought three Fireclaws in a row. She heaved a huge sigh and finally released her tight grip on the back of Ikrie’s coat. 

“You okay?” Ikrie whispered. She ran her hand over Aloy’s hair one more time, then shifted away slightly.

Aloy nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. I… Sorry about that.” She cleared her throat awkwardly; her throat felt raw and dry. 

“Don’t apologize,” Ikrie murmured. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

Aloy lifted her chin slightly to look at Ikrie. The affection in Ikrie’s gaze was clear even in the dim half-light of the moon, and it brought another lump to Aloy’s throat. But this time, the feeling was accompanied by a warmth, a sense of wellbeing that was so foreign that Aloy almost didn’t recognize it. 

Slowly, Aloy shuffled closer to Ikrie, then tentatively reached for Ikrie’s hand. 

Ikrie immediately entwined her fingers with Aloy’s, and suddenly Aloy’s heart was pounding in her throat, her belly swirling with a complicated mixture of excitement and grief, joy and anxiety. As she gazed into the warm charcoal-and-chocolate of Ikrie’s eyes, Aloy realized with perfect clarity that the bond between her and Ikrie was more than just friendship. This was more than desire. It was more than even a simple infatuation. This was something Aloy never bothered to want for herself; it was something she’d always assumed was just for _other people_. But now, with her own callused fingers tightly interlaced with the slender fingers of her Banuk friend, Aloy knew that she’d finally found something she’d never bothered to want for herself.

_You can just… be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things: 
> 
> 1\. Anyone else headcanon Ikrie as having a pixie cut with bangs? Admittedly maybe a little self-insert there (Ikrie and I look somewhat alike), but short hair is also more practical for shoving under all that headgear, ok? ;)   
> 2\. I just wanted to let you guys know I recently started playing Dragon Age: Inquisition so I'm a leeeettle bit preoccupied these days (read: binge playing just a little bit. HAHA.) DON'T WORRY, I'm not abandoning this fic - I've never left a longfic unfinished - but the updates might come more slowly. Just FYI! 
> 
> Thanks for reading along! xoxo


	9. Cauldron

“Flame-Hair! Who’s that with you?” 

Aloy peered up at Free Heap and lifted a hand in greeting to Petra, who was standing at the top of the tower. Aloy didn’t bother to reply; she and Ikrie would be riding into the settlement on their Striders in just a few minutes. Besides, Ikrie deserved more of an introduction than a brief shouted reply. 

Aloy turned to Ikrie and smiled. “Welcome to Free Heap,” she said.

Ikrie smiled back, but her eyes were wide as she surveyed the tower and the sturdy brick walls surrounding the Heap. “Wow,” she breathed. “This is… wow. Those walls, that tower…”

Aloy watched fondly as Ikrie stared at the settlement with unabashed awe. Aloy remembered feeling similarly admiring of Daytower when she’d first travelled west. Seeing one’s first modern brickwork building was nothing to sneeze at, but Aloy couldn’t help but poke some gentle fun at her friend as well. 

“The great snow-ghost Ikrie, rendered speechless? I don’t believe it,” Aloy quipped. 

Ikrie shot Aloy a swift, mischievous grin. “The joke’s on you, then. Snow-ghosts are usually silent,” she said. “But I’m not your average snow-ghost.” She winked at Aloy, then kicked her Strider’s sides into a quick trot and headed towards Free Heap’s gates.

Aloy raised her eyebrows in surprise as she followed Ikrie. She’d assumed that Ikrie had invented the term _snow-ghost_ , and now she felt slightly foolish - and guilty - that she hadn’t thought before to ask about the phrase. 

The two women hopped off their Striders and strolled into Free Heap. Aloy nodded politely at the settlers’ raucous greetings, but her attention was primarily on Ikrie, who continued to stare avidly at everything with eyes wide with wonder. 

Aloy reached over and squeezed Ikrie’s hand briefly. “Come and meet Petra. Then we can look around.” Ikrie nodded agreement, and the two women ran up the steps to the top of the squat tower where Petra’s workbench was located.

Petra grinned at Aloy as they approached. “Who are you and what have you done with Aloy?” she asked cheekily. “The Aloy I knew was a lone Stalker. Who’s this well-struck huntress who’s finagled her way into your company?” 

Aloy rolled her eyes good-naturedly as Petra tossed Ikrie a flirtatious look. “Petra, this is my partner Ikrie. She’s visiting from Ban-Ur for the first time.” She smiled proudly at Ikrie, who grinned back. 

Petra shifted her weight back on one hip and shot Aloy a knowing look. “Your partner, eh? This Banuk huntress has really stoked your forge!” 

Aloy shot Petra a warning look. She’d genuinely meant _hunting_ partner, but there was no hiding the truth anymore; Aloy wanted Ikrie to be her partner in the way Petra meant. During their quieter moments of riding this morning, Aloy couldn’t stop thinking about last night. She was still stunned that Ikrie had accepted her embarrassing outburst without even batting an eye. Aloy couldn’t remember the last time in recent memory that she’d cried like that; she and Rost had never been big on emotional displays. She hadn’t even cried when she’d visited Rost’s grave before leaving the Sacred Lands. There hadn’t been time.

She and Ikrie had fallen asleep holding hands last night. When Aloy woke this morning, it was to find Ikrie curled on her side facing Aloy, her hands tucked beneath her cheek and her raven-haired head tucked gently beneath Aloy’s chin. To Aloy’s confusion, tears burned her eyes again, and a swelling feeling in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. It had taken every ounce of willpower to _not_ wrap her arm around Ikrie’s shoulder, to _not_ trace her fingers along the freckled paleness of Ikrie’s cheek as she slept. 

When Ikrie had woken a few minutes later, Aloy felt inexplicably awkward. Ikrie was the only person alive that Aloy felt she could truly trust, but suddenly Aloy felt vulnerable and open, like she was putting on Carja blazon armour for the first time. But Ikrie had behaved like her usual self: she’d heated up their boarmeat soup leftovers while cracking jokes, and she’d punched Aloy’s arm in jest as they packed up the tent, and if Aloy had felt like her chest was swelling with painful affection before, it was nothing compared to the feeling that was engendered by Ikrie’s behaviour as they packed up; Ikrie was treating her like she was completely _normal_ , and Aloy was overwhelmed.

Then, just before the two women had mounted their Striders to set out to the west, Ikrie had reached out and stroked her hand gently over Aloy’s hair. It was a quick caress, over in a split second as Ikrie hopped onto her mount, but the feeling it left behind had lasted all morning: a buzzing feeling of hope just beneath Aloy’s skin that seemed to spark every time Ikrie smiled or quirked an eyebrow at her, like an ember waiting to be fanned into flame. 

Aloy knew what these feelings were, even if she was scared to put the name to them. But that didn’t mean Aloy wanted Petra teasing her about it. “Fire and spit, Petra, don’t you ever think about anything else?”

Petra shrugged easily. “Sure. But I just finished upgrading my canons this morning. Can you blame a girl for celebrating?” She winked at Aloy, then addressed Ikrie. “Our flame-haired machine hunter is just so cute when she blushes.”

Aloy felt her hot cheeks burn even hotter at this, and she scowled menacingly at Petra. But Ikrie chuckled. “She is. The red really brings out her freckles.” She grinned mischievously at Aloy. 

Aloy rubbed her neck awkwardly. “Freckles,” she muttered resentfully. “Look who’s talking. _You’re_ the goddess of freckles.” 

Ikrie smirked and airily flipped her bangs back from her face, all the better to reveal the freckles in question. “You’ve got me there, fire hunter,” she chirped. She then turned to Petra. “Canons, you said? Are they of your own design?”

To Aloy’s vast relief, Petra lost interest in Aloy completely as she led Ikrie to her treasured weapons rack and lovingly took down a canon. “Of course they’re my own design. See my face in them, can you?” She carried the canon over to her workbench and ushered Ikrie closer.

“I definitely see an expert’s hand,” Ikrie replied. She studied the weapon carefully, but not before tossing Aloy a very tiny wink. 

Aloy shot her a grateful smile as she drifted over to join them at the workbench. Petra was already cheerfully detailing the canon’s new specs to Ikrie, who was nodding with genuine interest. Aloy listened fondly as Ikrie peppered a delighted Petra with questions about recoil and kickback, overheating and exhaust, and firing rate with different types of ammo. 

Some time later, Petra heaved a happy sigh and gazed at Ikrie approvingly. “You certainly know all the right questions to ask about a good weapon, ice hunter. It’s enough to get a girl’s charcoal burning.” She grinned at Ikrie, who laughed good-naturedly.

“Ikrie is a weapons expert herself,” Aloy interjected proudly. “She made all her own weapons.” 

Petra folded her arms and gazed at Ikrie with even greater approval. “You don’t say? Well, that all makes sense now.” 

Suddenly Ikrie snapped her fingers and turned to Petra excitedly. “That reminds me! Do you have a tradesperson here? I need some supplies.” 

“Of course,” Petra replied. “Head back down to the base of the tower. You should be able to find anything you need. And cheaper than in Meridian. We don’t jack up our prices here.” She shot Aloy a smug look. 

Aloy nodded agreement with Petra, but she was curious. “What do you need?” she asked Ikrie. Aloy almost never bought supplies from merchants; she was usually able to get everything she needed from hunting and foraging, and she knew Ikrie was the same. 

But Ikrie just smiled. “You’ll see,” she said enigmatically. Then she squeezed Aloy’s hand briefly before running down the stairs. 

Aloy fondly watched Ikrie’s departure, then turned around to find Petra gazing at her with an insufferably smug look. Aloy folded her arms defensively. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded. 

“You’ve got it bad, huh?” Petra deadpanned. 

Aloy buried her face in her hands. This was so _embarrassing_. But Petra gave a hearty guffaw and slapped Aloy on the shoulder in a very Gildun-like way. “Don’t be shy, Aloy! Life is too short. When you like someone, don’t hide it. Better out than in, I like to say. You don’t want to end up like Jorgriz and Beladga.” Petra rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Aloy rolled her eyes as well as she remembered the bickering pair of hunters. Then Petra patted Aloy’s shoulder more gently, and her smile was equally gentle. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy before. Except when you took down that bridge with my canon.” She chuckled again. 

Aloy couldn’t help but half-smile at the memory, but Petra wasn’t finished. “The stern-faced Nora, turned to molten copper by a huntress from the frozen north,” she said, but her smile was still soft with an almost maternal fondness. “She must be something special, to find a crack in your armour.” 

Aloy rubbed the back of her neck again, uncertain how to respond. After all, Petra was right. Ikrie was something special. But Aloy hadn’t realized that Petra saw her that way: as stern and closed-off, like a nut that wouldn’t crack. Was this how Ikrie saw her as well?

Suddenly Aloy felt guilty. She and Ikrie had been travelling together non-stop for about a month now, but yesterday was the first time she’d really opened up to Ikrie. Ikrie’s words from so many weeks ago now echoed in her mind: _You don’t have to dumb it down for me._ Ikrie had only ever shown acceptance of the strangeness of Aloy’s life, and yet Aloy struggled still to tell Ikrie about the more important parts of her past.

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek worriedly. She disliked talking about herself because she’d learned that no one really wanted to know the truth: people saw what they wanted to see, and heard what they wanted to hear. Ikrie wasn’t like that, and Aloy knew it… but it was so _hard_ to change a lifetime’s habit of keeping to herself. 

“I’m back!” Ikrie’s cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts, and Aloy turned at her approach, grateful for the excuse to change the subject. “What did you get?” Aloy asked. 

Ikrie tutted playfully. “I told you, it’s a surprise.” Then she laughed. “Oh, who am I kidding? You’ll see that I bought sooner than later. We share a tiny tent, after all.” 

Petra grinned, and Aloy glared at her yet again. “Don’t you dare,” she scolded. 

Petra guffawed. “You’re making it too easy for me!” 

Ikrie laughed, then reached out and chucked Aloy’s chin playfully. “And you really are cute when you blush.” 

Aloy ducked her head as the infernal blush in question inexorably began to heat her cheeks for the umpteenth time today. “Can we talk about something else now?” she complained. 

Petra chuckled good-naturedly. “How about I tell Ikrie about the first time we met?” She turned to Ikrie. “Aloy helped me test out a modification for my canons. Took down that bridge over there single-handedly.” 

Aloy wrinkled her nose. This topic was hardly better than the teasing. “Come on, Petra. No one wants to sit around hearing stories about me,” she mumbled. 

Ikrie shot Aloy an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to hear this!” 

“Yeah, Aloy, that’s nonsense. Everyone loves spinning tales of their favourite Nora huntress,” Petra chimed in with a wicked grin. 

Aloy shot her a skeptical look. “Favourite Nora huntress? I’m the _only_ Nora huntress you know.” 

“Not true,” Petra replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve met many a Nora outcast in my time. And besides, I met your tribemates during the battle in Meridian.” She elbowed Ikrie. “Skittish as a herd of Lancehorns, those Nora are. But even the Nora weren’t able to resist Aloy’s rallying cry.”

Ikrie turned to Aloy, and Aloy felt a sudden jolt of trepidation; Ikrie’s eyes were still wide, but her expression was serious and… sad somehow. “The Nora left the Sacred Lands to come to your battle?” Ikrie said quietly. “I thought you didn’t get along with them.”

Aloy swallowed. Suddenly she felt put on the spot. She whirled on Petra. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she hissed. 

Petra raised her eyebrows in surprise at Aloy’s rudeness, then narrowed her eyes. The look on Petra’s face was enough to make the burliest Oseram Freebooter quail, but Aloy refused to back down. The hint of hurt in Ikrie’s face was piercing Aloy’s chest like a needle, and it wouldn’t have happened if Petra had just _stopped_ talking about Aloy when she’d asked. 

Petra stared at Aloy for a moment longer, then tilted her head chidingly. She put her arm around Ikrie’s shoulders and pulled her towards the stairs. “Come on, ice hunter. We’ve got the finest Scrappersap in the northern Sundom. Let me tell you about Meridian’s great elevator. I’m sure your travels with Aloy will take you there eventually, and you’ll enjoy it more if you know the history.” 

Aloy watched as Petra led Ikrie away. Once they were out of sight, Aloy released her clenched fists and let out a gusty sigh. Slowly she walked over to the edge of the tower and peered down. Petra was settling Ikrie down at the fire and introducing her to the other residents of Free Heap, who were greeting Ikrie with hearty warmth. 

“Petra and her big mouth,” Aloy muttered to herself. But a pang of remorse jolted her chest. _I shouldn’t have snapped like that,_ she thought. She couldn't help but imagine Rost’s disappointment with her for losing her temper. 

After a few long, agonizing minutes, Aloy slowly made her way down the stairs. Cautiously she approached the fire. Petra was in the midst of telling Ikrie a very animated story, and Aloy silently seated herself on a wooden bench at the edge of the firelight. 

A few moments later, Petra paused in her telling. She and Ikrie looked over at Aloy, and Petra jerked her head towards the fire. “Come on, Flame-Hair, join us,” she said. Her voice was as warm and inviting as her expression, and Aloy felt another pang of guilt at the implicit forgiveness in Petra’s tone. Then Ikrie held out her hand. 

Ikrie’s face was still serious, but her eyes glowed a warm brown in the light of the fire. Her outstretched hand was an invitation, pure and simple, and Aloy had to swallow hard past the sudden lump in her throat. Without hesitation she rose and took Ikrie’s hand, then sat beside Ikrie. 

Ikrie laced her fingers into Aloy’s and turned back to Petra. “Go on, Petra. What did Harlend say?”

Petra snorted a laugh as she poured a cup of Scrappersap for Aloy. “He denied the whole thing, of course. Said he hadn’t been to the tavern at all. But there were witnesses everywhere, of course - he went with almost the entire work crew, after all! So I picked up his broken mallet. ‘Harlend,’ I said…”

Petra handed Aloy her drink as she continued her story, and Aloy gratefully took the cup and sipped. The Scrappersap warmed her throat and chest on the way down, and the firelight warmed her face as she laughed at Petra’s tale. But the most important sensation, the one Aloy cherished the most, was the slender warmth of Ikrie’s fingers twined with hers. 

******************  
Late that afternoon, Aloy and Ikrie were on their Striders again and cantering through the desert at an easy pace. Crickets were starting to chirp in the fading light of dusk, and a gentle breeze lifted the hair away from Aloy’s face, but she couldn’t enjoy it. 

Ikrie had been uncharacteristically quiet as they rode away from Free Heap. As the evening wore on, Aloy began feeling desperate to break the silence, but she couldn’t seem to unclamp her lips.

As the sky began to darken, the silence stretched between her and Ikrie like a brittle bowstring until Aloy thought she might scream. Then finally Ikrie spoke.

“Aloy, can we stop for a second?”

Aloy blew out a tiny relieved breath and pulled her Strider to a stop. She turned to look at Ikrie, but Ikrie’s face was more serious than ever, and Aloy suddenly wondered whether riding in silence might be preferable to hearing whatever Ikrie was about to say. 

Aloy clenched her jaw and dropped her gaze, but Ikrie’s words immediately made Aloy lift her chin in surprise. “Aloy, I don’t want to keep hearing about you from other people.” 

Aloy stared at Ikrie in confusion and surprise as Ikrie rushed on awkwardly. “The people you know, they keep sayings things about you, but you’re right here. I’m starting to feel like… Not that you owe me anything,” Ikrie blurted. “You don’t _have_ to tell me anything. That’s not what I mean to say. It’s just that…” 

Ikrie paused, then took a deep breath and looked Aloy in the eye. “You’re like a tent,” Ikrie said. 

Aloy’s eyebrows jumped high on her forehead. “Huh?” she demanded.

But Ikrie held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “Hear me out. Your life is like a tent, and you told me you’re going to put it together so I can see the full thing with all the supporting beams in place to hold up the leather. But you need time, and I get that. It takes time to put a tent together properly. But all these people we meet, all your friends, they keep giving me pieces of the tent that I didn’t ask for. I don’t want the pieces from them. I’ll put the tent together all wrong if they keep giving me pieces out of order. If anyone’s going to give me the pieces, I want them from you.”

Ikrie’s gaze was steady on her face, and for what felt like the thousandth time in two days, tears were burning the backs of Aloy’s eyes as she took in Ikrie’s expression: it was sympathetic and warm, and just a little bit pained. 

A squeeze of guilt pressed on Aloy’s chest again, and she took a deep breath. “I know. I do want you to know everything,” she said slowly. “It’s just… when other people tell it… it’s not how I want it told. But I shouldn’t have snapped at Petra,” she muttered. 

Ikrie shook her head. “Petra understands. She said she knew you’d been through a lot. And I don’t want to force you,” Ikrie said insistently. “I just…” She trailed off and tugged absently at her bangs before speaking again. “The more I know, the less I have to… tippy-toe.” 

“Yeah,” Aloy whispered. She understood Ikrie’s point, especially in the wake of what had happened that afternoon. She and Ikrie fell silent again, but this time the silence wasn’t heavy and horrible like before.

After a few long minutes of thought, Aloy lifted her chin and looked Ikrie in the eye. “I want to show you something. It’ll be a long ride. Are you okay if we don’t camp tonight?”

Ikrie smiled, and for the first time in hours, Aloy’s shoulders relaxed. Ikrie nodded and kicked her Strider into motion again. “Lead the way, fire hunter.”

************************

Aloy and Ikrie rode all night, stopping only once for a snack and a drink of water. The slender arch of the moon was high in the sky by the time Aloy pulled on her Strider’s reins and signalled for Ikrie to stop. 

Ikrie followed Aloy’s lead, her jaw dropping open immediately at the sight before her. Aloy had led them along a desert path into a clearing bordered along the south by a craggy cliffside, and Ikrie’s gaze was immediately drawn to a very strange feature of the cliffside: a huge triangular… entrance, for lack of a better word, that was easily four times Ikrie’s height and equally wide, and which seemed to lead into a cavern in the cliff. 

Aloy tapped her Focus, then nodded with satisfaction. “Come on,” she said briskly to Ikrie. “There are no machines nearby. Not at the moment, at least. If we hurry, we can avoid them.” 

Aloy’s manner was businesslike, and it made Ikrie nervous. It was on the tip of Ikrie’s tongue to make some smartass quip about Aloy never shirking a hunt before, but she swallowed it back and nodded in silent agreement, then followed Aloy towards the huge triangular door in the cliffside. 

As they neared the cliff, Ikrie realized that the ground suddenly dropped off sharply into a crevasse. Aloy was already unlatching her rappelling hook from her belt. “Wait here,” she said to Ikrie. “I’ll make a bridge so you can cross.” Without further ado, Aloy slung her rappelling hook across the crevasse so that it caught on a short curved metal pipe on the other side of the crevasse. She then hopped off the ledge. 

Ikrie watched with half of her attention as Aloy shimmied up the rope and hefted herself onto the far side of the crevasse, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from the strange object within the cavern. It looked like a pillar about twice Ikrie’s height with a flat top, but it was unlike anything Ikrie had ever seen before. It had to be some kind of machine, but it looked oddly organic somehow, covered with blue and red wires and plates of metal. 

A sudden slithering movement near Ikrie’s feet caught her attention, and she looked down and then jumped away from the edge of the crevasse in startlement: glowing blue wires were snaking their way across the crevasse and threading into the ground at Ikrie’s feet.

Ikrie stared across the crevasse in shock. Aloy was kneeling beside the metal pipe that she’d used to rappel across, and her spear was stuck into the mouth of the pipe, which now glowed with a blue light instead of threatening red. “Come on,” Aloy called. 

For a moment, Ikrie couldn’t move. She was stunned by the strangeness of the situation. In the space of a minute, Aloy had produced a bridge made of shaman’s cords, the same kinds of cords that glowed in Aloy’s overridden machines, and now she was telling Ikrie to cross it as though this was a completely commonplace occurrence. 

Ikrie swallowed hard, then gingerly slid her foot onto the bridge; it was perfectly stable, of course, so Ikrie took a deep breath and crossed the bridge to Aloy’s side. As she walked across the glowing blue bridge, Ikrie was seized by a bizarre desire to laugh. She couldn’t help but wonder whether the shamans in Ban-Ur would have been amazed or disgusted to see her strolling so casually across a bridge made of the same kinds of sacred cords that they laced into their skin.

Aloy stood up as Ikrie stepped off the bridge and onto the ledge beside her. “So?” Aloy said. “Are you freaked out yet?”

Aloy’s tone was playful, but Ikrie immediately noticed that Aloy wasn’t meeting her eye. Her arms were folded and she was gazing away from Ikrie and into the cavern. 

“Yep,” Ikrie said bluntly. “Completely.”

Aloy finally looked at her with an expression of dismay on her face, and Ikrie grinned. “But I love it,” Ikrie added. “I was looking for an adventure, right? This is definitely an adventure.” She took a tentative step towards the mouth of the cavern. “Aloy, what _is_ this place?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ikrie watched as Aloy’s posture relaxed. She unfolded her arms and nodded for Ikrie to follow her into the cavern. “This is Cauldron Rho,” Aloy said. “It’s one of the facilities where the machines are made.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “Really? Machines are made _here?_ ” 

Aloy nodded and led Ikrie to the pillar. Up close, Ikrie realized that the pillar seemed to be letting off gentle jets of steam which wreathed the pillar like morning mist, further strengthening Ikrie’s impression of this odd object being a melding of synthetic and organic.

Aloy reached up and gently stroked one of the cords on the pillar. “This is the Cauldron core. I used my spear to override it.” She pointed to a port at the base of the pillar, then gazed seriously at Ikrie. “This is how I can control the machines. These cores, they… send instructions to the machines. When I plug my spear into the cores, I add a set of instructions that lets me control the machines when I plug my spear into them as well.” 

Ikrie reached up and patted the Cauldron as well. She somehow wasn’t surprised to find that it was faintly warm. “How do the machines get the instructions from the cores?” she asked. “Are they able to… talk to each other somehow?”

Aloy shot her a little half-smile, and Ikrie smiled back as her heart skipped a beat. Aloy had been so tense all day, but finally she was loosening up and relaxing as she talked about the Cauldron and the machines. Frankly, Ikrie was relieved; when Aloy had snapped at Petra that afternoon, there was something about her coldness, the forbidding expression on her face, that had made Ikrie’s blood run cold for a moment. 

But now, Aloy’s stern reserve was melting away, and Aloy was nearly back to her usual relaxed self as she gestured for Ikrie to follow her further into the cavern. “Yeah. They can, uh, communicate with each other across long distances. I don’t exactly know how it works, actually,” Aloy confessed sheepishly. “But the Cauldron cores seem to, er, talk to the machines via something called a network. Like an invisible web that connects the machines together.” She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“That’s okay,” Ikrie assured her. “Invisible net that snags all the machines and gives them instructions. Got it.”

Aloy’s eyebrows lifted slightly as she led Ikrie towards a triangular hallway. “Yeah, actually. That’s a good analogy.”

Ikrie elbowed Aloy playfully. “See? I told you, you don't have to dumb it down for me.” She peered curiously into the hallway. It was very dark, lit here and there by triangular blue lights shining from the walls. Ikrie shook her head in wonder. Now, for the first time, she really understood why the shamans were so devoted to triangular motifs in their murals. 

A sudden warm pressure on Ikrie’s hand drew her attention. She turned towards Aloy, and her heart leapt into her throat: Aloy had sidled up beside her while she was peering down the hallway, and now Aloy stood so close that Ikrie could smell the warm herbal scent of her hair. 

Aloy squeezed Ikrie’s fingers gently, and Ikrie bit her lip with nervous excitement. Aloy’s face was utterly serious, her eyebrows creased in a gentle frown, but there was something so vulnerable about her expression that Ikrie’s chest suddenly felt tight with inexplicable compassion. 

Slowly and tentatively, Aloy lifted her other hand and pushed a strand of Ikrie’s bangs away from her forehead. The gesture was careful, giving Ikrie the impression that Aloy had never done this before, and Ikrie swallowed hard; her heart was suddenly pounding in her throat and making it hard to breathe. 

Then Aloy spoke, and her breath fanned across Ikrie’s face. “Come on,” she whispered. She tugged Ikrie’s hand, and in silence they entered the dark hallway. 

They walked through the hallway in silence; the only sound was their footsteps and their breath, and Ikrie idly wondered whether she was breathing too loudly. Her heart certainly felt like it was pounding too loudly. Aloy’s callused palm was warm against hers, and Ikrie was barely even noticing the strangeness of their surroundings anymore; Aloy’s closeness was taking up far too much of her attention.

They took a sharp right turn in the hallway, and Ikrie gasped involuntarily. 

_Blue light._ The end of the hall was filled from floor to ceiling by a stunning lattice of triangles that glowed with whitish-blue light. The walls pulsed with a deep blue light that glowed and faded in mysterious linear patterns. 

Without even thinking about it, Ikrie released Aloy’s hand, then reached out and traced her fingers along the glowing lines on the wall. Reverently she stepped closer to the lattice of triangles at the end of the hall and simply stared at the glowing light for a long moment.

“Blue light,” Ikrie whispered. “It’s beautiful.” She turned and smiled brilliantly at Aloy, who had silently joined her in front of the lattice of light. 

Aloy offered her a genuine half-smile in return, but Ikrie’s heart throbbed with sympathy again as she surveyed her Nora friend. Ikrie knew Aloy would hate to hear it, but she really was a remarkably special woman. Ikrie wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore, but there was no doubt in Ikrie’s mind that Aloy was the most talented shaman she had ever met. Shamans all over Ban-Ur would die to have a fraction of the machine knowledge that Aloy had. Aloy was an incredible repository of knowledge and skill, and Ikrie knew firsthand how generous Aloy was with her skills… and yet she was such a solitary soul, curled inside the shelter of her secrets and her past, and Ikrie still wasn’t sure exactly why. 

Suddenly Aloy spoke in a very quiet voice. “I was born in a place like this. Well, kind of like this.” 

Ikrie frowned slightly, but she didn’t speak; Aloy’s eyes were on the glowing lattice of light, and Ikrie could see the tension in her jaw. Then Aloy shook her head slightly and turned to face Ikrie. “Actually, no,” she said, in an even quieter voice. “This is the truth: I wasn’t _born._ No woman gave birth to me. I was grown inside a machine. An artificial womb, they called it. _That’s_ why the Nora cast me out when I was a baby. That’s why they hated me. Well, I guess some of them still do.” She turned away and folded her arms, but she didn’t look angry; her expression was indescribably sad. 

Ikrie couldn’t speak; she was too stunned by this sudden onslaught of information. But she couldn’t stop herself from sliding her hand comfortingly along Aloy’s arm and gripping her elbow supportively. 

Aloy glanced at her with the saddest half-smile, and Ikrie swallowed hard past the sudden lump in her throat. “I guess it’s fitting that I can control machines,” Aloy murmured matter-of-factly. “I’m practically a machine myself.” She gave a bitter, half-hearted little laugh. 

“No,” Ikrie blurted. She squeezed Aloy’s elbow, then cupped the back of Aloy’s neck in her palm, forcing Aloy to look into her eyes. “Where you were born - or made, or grown… That isn’t what makes you human,” Ikrie insisted. “That’s not what defines you.” 

Aloy dropped her gaze and didn’t reply. Ikrie stepped closer to Aloy and slid her hand from Aloy’s neck to cup her cheek. “If the Nora hate you for being born inside a Cauldron, it’s _their_ loss,” Ikrie whispered. “I’m more than the place where I was born, and so are you. If they can’t see that, they don’t deserve to know you.” Gently she stroked her thumb along Aloy’s cheek. “There’s a reason we both left home. And there’s a reason we’re here together now.” 

Finally Aloy lifted her eyes to Ikrie’s, and any further words Ikrie was going to say were swept from her mind. Aloy’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but her stare was intense and loaded, and Ikrie’s heart was suddenly thrumming in her chest again, a drumbeat of anticipation and excitement and fear that left her giddy. 

Aloy’s gaze dropped to Ikrie’s lips, and Ikrie’s breath hitched in her throat. Then Aloy lifted her hand and carefully slid her fingers around Ikrie’s waist. 

Ikrie’s lips parted involuntarily at Aloy’s touch, and Aloy lifted her chin slightly, and Ikrie needed no further prompting: she leaned in and captured Aloy’s lips with her own. 

Immediately Aloy wrapped her arms around Ikrie’s waist, and Ikrie cradled Aloy’s neck in her palms as she kissed her. Ikrie’s heart felt swollen, like a bubbling geyser ready to burst. Aloy’s embrace was surprisingly uninhibited, her arms pulling Ikrie so close that she could feel Aloy’s thigh pressed against her own, and the total acceptance in Aloy’s hug brought a sudden burn of tears to Ikrie’s eyes. 

Aloy parted her lips slightly and Ikrie took her cue, gently nipping Aloy’s lower lip before stroking Aloy’s tongue with her own. A tiny gasp shivered from Aloy’s throat, and Ikrie felt a jolt of familiar heat and anticipation low in her belly at the sound. Aloy’s fingers tightened on her waist, and Ikrie savoured the fine lines of Aloy’s lower lip with her tongue before Aloy enthusiastically recaptured her mouth in a deeper kiss. 

A long, blissful moment later, Aloy pulled away and pressed her forehead against Ikrie’s. Aloy’s breaths were short and shallow, and Ikrie smiled, relieved that she wasn’t the only one feeling rather breathless. 

Aloy reached up and tucked a short tuft of hair behind Ikrie’s ear. “Home is overrated anyway,” she whispered huskily. 

Ikrie grinned more widely. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

Aloy’s answering grin was brighter than the glittering wall of lights, and Ikrie had to bite back a laugh of pure joy as Aloy leaned in and pressed her lips to Ikrie’s again. Aloy’s fingers were warm on her neck, her tongue sweet and smooth in Ikrie’s mouth, and Ikrie knew without a doubt that there was nowhere she would rather be than wrapped in the embrace of her flame-haired shaman partner, in the glowing blue light of this Cauldron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted [some photos on Tumblr](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/171972814093/put-your-spear-beside-mine-new-chapter-of) of the Cauldron that's featured in this chapter. I hope they help you guys to visualize the scene!


	10. Snow-Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic rating has changed to Explicit. :)
> 
> Huge enormous kisses and hugs to [Writerly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerly/pseuds/Writerly) and to [Kitzie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitzie/pseuds/Kitzie) for consulting with me on this chapter and reassuring me in my waffly uncertainty! I hope this chapter is okay! *bites nails nervously*

It was the darkest, most hushed hour of the night when Ikrie and Aloy finally camped for the night in a small, secluded clearing just south of Cauldron Rho. Aloy was gradually telling Ikrie about her history - which, as Aloy sheepishly explained, was inherently tied to the history of their world. 

“It sounds unlikely, I know,” Aloy blurted. “It sounds… arrogant, really. But I promise it’ll make sense. I just…” She ran a hand through her hair and tugged awkwardly at one of her braids. “It’s easier to explain if I start with the Old Ones. Can I start with that?”

“Of course,” Ikrie said. “Tell me however it makes sense to you. Then it’ll make sense to me too.” She gently wiped some shavings from the roughly-hewn wooden figure in her hand, then continued her carving. They were sitting side-by-side on the ground by a dark firepit, having both agreed it was too hot for a fire, and Ikrie watched in the light of the moon as Aloy bit her lip uncertainly. Ikrie knew Aloy was scared of being misunderstood, but Ikrie had seen enough strange and implausible realities during their travels together that nothing Aloy told her would seem impossible anymore.

Aloy nodded sharply. “All right. Back in the days of the Old Ones, a thousand some-odd years ago, machines were everywhere. The Old Ones designed them and made them to help run their societies. So the machines didn’t attack anyone; they were designed to be helpful. At least, that’s how it was at first.” 

Aloy took a sip of water from her flask, then went on. “Eventually humans started making machines to fight their wars for them. Machines like the Deathbringer, and the Horus that you saw overlooking the Nora lands. And that would have been… well, not fine, but… it wouldn’t have been such a problem if the Old Ones were able to keep control over the machines. But soon enough, the machines… got smart.”

Ikrie frowned. “Uh-oh. I don’t like where this is going.” 

Aloy nodded slowly. “You know how I can put instructions into the machines to tame them?” Ikrie nodded, and Aloy went on, “The humans weren’t able to put instructions into the machines anymore. It was like the machines were locked so that they wouldn’t take new instructions from the Old Ones. It was all because this one man, Ted Faro, he…” Aloy trailed off, and Ikrie watched with concern as Aloy clenched her jaw angrily, then shook her head. “Anyway. It was Ted Faro’s fault that the Old Ones weren’t able to control the machines they made. The machines were able to communicate with each other by a network, and they got smarter because there were so many of them working in tandem. Soon those war machines started grinding up and… and _eating_ anything alive in order to power themselves and make more of themselves.” 

Ikrie winced. “Sweet Banukai.”

Aloy pursed her lips in agreement. “The Old Ones tried to destroy the machines to stop them from eating everything, but the machines were too powerful and too smart. Fighting them in a normal war wouldn’t work. So the Old Ones had to come up with a different solution to try and stop everything in the world from being devoured.” 

“And they succeeded,” Ikrie interjected. “I mean, clearly they did; we’re here, right?”

Aloy grimaced. “Well, yes and no. They did come up with a solution, but it wasn’t by stopping the machines.” She took another deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. “Ted Faro, the man whose fault this all was, he asked a… scholar, named Elisabet Sobeck, to come up with a solution. So Elisabet invented a… a machine spirit. The Old Ones called it an artificial intelligence.”

Ikrie frowned in confusion, and Aloy hurriedly explained, “An artificial intelligence is a machine mind. It’s kind of like… like a spirit of a person, but much, _much_ smarter. And it didn’t need a body to live in. It just needed a computer.” 

Ikrie winced apologetically. “I’m sorry, Aloy, but what’s a computer?”

Aloy tugged a braid again. “It’s just a special kind of machine. I’m not explaining this well,” she muttered. 

“No, you’re doing fine,” Ikrie assured her. “Machine horde trying to wipe out the world and eat everyone and everything. Then Elisabet Sobeck invents an intelligent machine spirit, and together they save the world. Right?”

She smiled at Aloy, hoping to lighten Aloy’s mood with her lighthearted summary. But when Aloy finally looked at Ikrie again, Ikrie was dismayed to see tears shining in her eyes, despite her smile. “Yeah,” Aloy said gruffly. “That pretty much sums it up.” Aloy cleared her throat and turned away from Ikrie to rifle in her pouches, but Ikrie was fairly sure she wasn’t actually looking for anything; her dried figs and water were in front of her on the ground, after all. 

Ikrie waited quietly and continued to whittle the wood in her hands until Aloy turned back towards her and spoke. “Ikrie, is it okay if we… leave it at that for tonight. I want to get the next part right. It’s complicated.” 

Ikrie nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Aloy gave her a grateful half-smile, and the two women sat quietly for a while, Aloy crafting arrows while Ikrie worked on her project and mulled over what Aloy had told her. 

From everything the shamans had said while Ikrie was growing up, she had always just taken for granted that machines and people had always co-existed. But Aloy’s information made it clear that people had come first: people had invented the machines. 

Ikrie carefully shaved at the base of her piece of wood as she tried to come to terms with this fact. This new truth was _huge_ \- almost vertigo-inducing in its immensity. What would the shamans do if they knew? Shamans saw the machines as sacred vessels of the Blue Light, singing songs of wisdom that could be deciphered only by meditation and rituals. But if the Old Ones had _made_ the machines…

_Is it possible for the machines to know anything that we don’t know, if we made them?_ Ikrie wondered. Then she mentally checked herself. It wasn’t present-day people who had made the machines; it was the Old Ones. And the machines made themselves now: Cauldron Rho was like an enormous machine that spat out smaller ones. Machines didn’t need humans to exist. They’d learned how to exist on their own, and to make more of themselves on their own. 

If that was the case, were they really that different from people? 

Suddenly Aloy spoke again, interrupting Ikrie’s spinning thoughts. “Ikrie, what’s a snow-ghost?”

Ikrie smirked. “Oh, it’s just a thing we call a person who wanders without a werak. That doesn’t happen very often, in case you didn’t notice. We Banuk usually travel in groups.”

“But where does that term come from?” Aloy asked. “Is there a story behind it?”

Ikrie chuckled and brushed some wood dust from her carving. “All right, I get it, you want a story. I guess It’s only fair.” She smiled at Aloy, and felt a jolt of relief as Aloy smiled back without a hint of sadness in her face. 

So Ikrie began her tale. “When you become a runner with a werak, you commit everything to the werak. It becomes your first priority; you defend the werak and its survival to the death. Now, you know we Banuk are not romantics. Well, most of us aren’t.” She winked at Aloy and was rewarded by Aloy’s tiny snort of laughter. “You know the story of Banukai? How she went to a cave of the machines for help to combat the Ravenous Tribe?” Aloy nodded, so Ikrie continued her story.

“Well, one of the lesser tales - one that most Banuk shamans and chieftains frown upon - is the story of a warrior from Banukai’s werak, a warrior that Banukai left behind when she went seeking help from the machines. The warrior’s name was Banituk, and he defended the werak against the Ravenous Tribe while Banukai was gone. He was a fine warrior; he fought hard and well, killing many of the Ravenous Tribe, and all the werak looked upon him for guidance as they waited for Banukai’s return. The werak believed that Banituk was the finest warrior in the land because all of his fighting spirit was poured into the survival of the werak. Little did they know that he fought for the werak so hard because he was in love with Banukai.”

Ikrie paused and quickly ate a dried fig from Aloy’s waxcloth, then continued talking as she carved her piece of wood. “Banituk was determined to hold off the Ravenous Tribe until Banukai’s return. He fought as hard as he could, but he took too many wounds, and he died before she could return. But his love for Banukai was so great that when he died, his spirit didn’t join the Blue Light. Instead, it remained on the snow, determined to wander the lands until it found Banukai again. But… you know how Banukai’s story ends. She brought the machines back to fight the Ravenous Tribe, as was her duty, then she died and her spirit went to the Blue Light. Banituk’s spirit never found her.” Ikrie took a deep breath, then finished the story in a quiet voice. “And so his ghost remains on the snow, free from the duties of the werak, free to roam but forever bound by his love for the woman that he never found again.” 

Ikrie fell silent, embarrassed by her sudden melancholy. When she was younger, she and Mailen used to love the story of Banituk, and Ikrie still remembered how much she had cried the first time they’d heard the tale from one of the other youth in their settlement. The impact of the story had dimmed with time and repetition, and it had been years since Ikrie had thought of it, but suddenly she was choking on a bitter lump in her throat. 

She bowed her head and breathed deeply through her nose. Then Aloy reached out and took her hand. “You’re not a snow-ghost anymore,” Aloy murmured.

Ikrie gazed into Aloy’s face. Her expression was fierce, her grip firm on Ikrie’s hand. “I know,” Ikrie whispered. And it was true. Ikrie was a wanderer now, but she wasn’t alone. 

She squeezed Aloy’s hand in return, then smiled. “I guess I’ll have to come up with a new nickname for myself. Any suggestions? Do the Nora have any amusing legendary creatures?” 

Aloy snorted dismissively. “Not that I know of. I mean, maybe they do. I didn’t spend enough time with them to hear many of their tales.” She offered Ikrie a half-smile that was slightly forced. “But the Oseram can probably come up with some suggestions. They’re full of nicknames. We can ask Erend.” 

“Who’s Erend?” Ikrie asked.

Aloy smirked. “He’s the Captain of Avad’s Vanguard. And a lunkhead. But a very kind and honourable one.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “Avad? You mean… Sun-King Avad?”

Aloy’s face fell, and she hunched her shoulders awkwardly as though to escape her own fame. “Uh. Yeah.” She released Ikrie’s hand and began to wrap up the dried figs. “You’ll meet them eventually. They’re nice,” she muttered vaguely. Once she had finished tidying up the food, she turned to Ikrie with a determined look on her face. “What are you working on there, by the way?” 

Ikrie desperately wanted to ask more questions - _how in the Blue Light are you friends with the Sun-King_ being the one at the forefront of her mind - but it was obvious that Aloy had been pushed to her limits of self-disclosure today, so Ikrie subsided. 

She smiled mischievously in response to Aloy’s question, but there was no point trying to be coy; she and Aloy went everywhere together, after all, so there was no hiding her project. Ikrie showed the piece of wood to Aloy, which was now carved into a short, slightly curved cylinder with a smooth pommel. “It’s for you.”

Aloy took the piece of wood and examined it quietly for a moment, then looked up at Ikrie with shining eyes. “It’s a sling handle,” she said quietly. 

“Yep,” Ikrie said pertly. “I promised, remember? Can’t let one of the world’s finest machine hunters go around hunting with an amateurish Carja sling.” Gently she took the handle back from Aloy’s fingers, then scraped away a little shaving of wood. 

A moment later, Aloy took her arm. “Ikrie,” she said. 

There was something intense about Aloy’s voice, and Ikrie turned towards her with a hint of concern, but any worries were immediately swept away as Aloy cupped her cheek in one hand and kissed her. 

Ikrie’s mind instantly went blank. Aloy’s mouth was warm and insistent, easing Ikrie’s lips apart with a gentle pressure, and Ikrie happily accepted the stroke of Aloy’s tongue against her own. A spark of pure heat lit her from the inside, like an ember sliding down her throat and into her abdomen.

Aloy slid her fingers into the hair at Ikrie’s nape and swept her thumb along Ikrie’s jawline. With a sudden surge of desire, Ikrie shifted onto her knees so she could face Aloy, then nipped lightly at Aloy’s lower lip with her own before delving her tongue possessively into her mouth. 

A tiny, soft whimper escaped Aloy’s throat, and Ikrie eagerly captured the sound on the tip of her tongue. Aloy’s fingers were gently gripping her hair now, and Ikrie couldn’t help herself; she arched slightly towards Aloy, wanting to press herself closer to her blazing heat. 

A long, delicious moment later, they breathlessly broke apart. Aloy leaned her forehead against Ikrie’s as they caught their breath, but Ikrie couldn’t calm; Aloy’s fingers were still twined in the tufts of hair at the back of her neck, and Ikrie could feel her own pulse in her throat and between her legs.

Finally Aloy spoke. “It’s late. Should we try to sleep for a bit?”

Her voice held a sultry note of lust, and Ikrie swallowed hard. “Yeah,” she replied casually. “Good idea.”

They rolled their bedrolls out side-by-side in silence. Aloy lay on her back with one arm folded under her head, her other hand resting easily on her bare abdomen, and Ikrie unconsciously mimicked Aloy’s pose as she lay down beside her. Aloy had changed into her infamous Carja blazon armour before they’d set out from Free Heap, and in the wake of their kiss, Ikrie couldn’t help but stare at Aloy from the corner of her eye. Her gaze fixed on the easy rise and fall of Aloy’s flat, smooth belly as she breathed quietly. 

Aloy then moved her hand from her belly onto the bedroll between herself and Ikrie.

Ikrie took a slow, deep breath, then slid her hand onto the bedroll as well, placing their fingers mere centimetres apart. Her heart was pounding nervously in her chest now. It was one thing to kiss while she and Aloy were both standing or sitting; somehow the situation seemed infinitely more intimate - and infinitely more _tempting_ \- now that they were both lying down. Ikrie knew what she wanted, and she was fairly certain what Aloy wanted from the steadily increasing rate of Aloy’s breathing, but Ikrie didn’t want to assume… 

At that moment, Aloy reached out and brushed her fingers over Ikrie’s wrist.

It was all the encouragement Ikrie needed. She rolled onto her side towards Aloy, then slowly reached up and skimmed her fingers along the side of Aloy’s face, captivated by the intensity of her stare. Aloy wet her lips and tilted her chin up, and Ikrie was helpless to do anything but answer her wordless plea. 

She lowered her mouth to Aloy’s lips, and Aloy’s response was instantaneous: she cradled Ikrie’s neck in her palm and returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her eagerness was like blaze to the flame of Ikrie’s desire; she shifted closer until Aloy’s hip was flush to her body, then slid her fingers around her bare waist. 

Aloy broke their kiss with a gasp, and Ikrie could feel the subtle lifting of Aloy’s hips, an unconscious but unmistakable sign of her desire. Ikrie inhaled deeply and greedily stared at the woman beneath her. Aloy’s eyes were closed, her lips parted as she took a deep, shuddering breath. The coppery curtain of her hair was spread around her head like a halo, the muscles of her belly taut beneath the smoothness of her skin. 

_She’s beautiful._ The thought hit Ikrie harder than a Scrapper’s blast, and Ikrie clenched her jaw. She wanted so badly to touch her, to run her fingers over the boundaries where Aloy’s golden sun-exposed skin melted into snowy-white, but there was one more question Ikrie needed to ask, and this was one that couldn’t be put off for another day. 

Ikrie ran her thumb gently along Aloy’s jawline and gazed seriously into her eyes. “Aloy, listen… I don’t want to assume anything. I hope this isn’t rude to ask, but have you ever… been with anyone?” 

Aloy shrugged casually and dropped her gaze. “No,” she said. “Who would I have been with?” 

Aloy’s tone was neutral and bland, but Ikrie could tell her question wasn’t rhetorical; Aloy really meant it. Ikrie wasn’t sure whether Aloy meant there was no one she’d wanted to be with, or that there was no one she imagined would want to be with _her_... but either way, the question squeezed Ikrie’s heart. “Well, I’m yours,” she said easily. “If you want me.”

Aloy’s gaze darted back to Ikrie’s face, her eyes shining brightly in the dim moonlight. Finally Aloy spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. “You’re the only…” She trailed off and swallowed hard, then in a firmer voice she said, “I want this. With you.”

Her eyes were steady on Ikrie’s face, a small but genuine smiling pulling at the corner of her lips, and a wave of tenderness stole Ikrie’s breath for a moment. Finally she found the air to speak. “Good. Because I don’t think I could take my hand off you if I tried.” 

Aloy grinned broadly at her inane joke. Ikrie smiled helplessly back, then kissed her firmly and slid her thumb over the soft skin of Aloy’s waist. 

Aloy nipped Ikrie’s lower lip and bucked her hips slightly. Ikrie’s own hunger pulsed at the lustful movements of Aloy’s body, and she eagerly slid her palm up along the smooth expanse of Aloy’s belly, then skimmed her thumb just beneath her breast. 

Aloy whimpered against her lips and arched into her touch, her back bending gracefully like a supple ridgewood switch. Encouraged, Ikrie slowly slipped her hand under the hem of Aloy’s cropped Carja blouse. Her nimble fingers found the puckered bud of Aloy’s nipple, and she lightly brushed her fingertips over the hard peak. 

Aloy broke from Ikrie’s kiss with a gasp, then reached up and threaded her fingers into Ikrie’s hair. She arched her back and pressed her breast more firmly into Ikrie’s touch. Ikrie’s heart was pounding again, her pulse racing with wild joy at how uninhibited Aloy’s desire was. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but somehow she was surprised - and ecstatic - at Aloy’s ardour. The redheaded huntress was so reserved around other people that Ikrie couldn’t help but feel privileged as she watched Aloy come undone beneath her hands.

_And I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,_ Ikrie thought with satisfaction. She kissed Aloy hard and slid her hand gently back down over her belly. 

Aloy broke away from Ikrie’s mouth again, her breath catching in a convulsive gasp as Ikrie’s fingertips inched towards her silk belt. Ikrie stared down at her, enthralled by the passion in her face. Even in the half-light of the moon, Ikrie could see that Aloy’s lips and cheeks were flushed with heat. 

She ran her thumb along the edge of the machine-metal buckle on Aloy’s Carja silk belt, then lowered her lips to Aloy’s ear. “Can I loosen this?” she whispered. 

Aloy drew in another trembling gasp, then nodded. Ikrie carefully loosened the belt buckle, then slid her fingers slowly into Aloy’s leggings, past the patch of curls to stroke her lower lips. 

Aloy’s slippery heat graced her fingers, and Ikrie couldn’t decide what she liked more: the warm promise between Aloy’s legs, or the mewl of pleasure that escaped her throat as Ikrie smoothed her fingers along the length of her cleft. Ikrie teasingly stroked Aloy’s plump folds, savouring the feel of her mouthwatering moisture on the tips of her fingers. 

Aloy’s fingers were tight in her hair now, her eyes squeezed shut and her pulse fluttering just beneath her skin, and Ikrie lowered her lips to Aloy’s throat, unable to resist the tempting column of her neck. She grazed Aloy’s throat with her lips and gently dipped her fingers into Aloy’s folds, then brushed her finger over her taut nub. 

Aloy jerked her hips, and the tendon in her neck went rigid under Ikrie’s mouth. “Fire and spit,” Aloy gasped. 

Ikrie chuckled softly against Aloy’s skin. “I hope that’s a good thing?” 

“In this case, yes,” Aloy panted, then moaned as Ikrie stroked her finger over her clit. The sound of Aloy’s pleasure shivered beneath Ikrie’s skin, setting her desire on fire, and Ikrie forced herself to breathe through the sudden bolt of lust. Ikrie could feel her own wetness pooling between her legs, but she ruthlessly shunted the urge aside. This was Aloy’s first time, and Ikrie was determined to make it count. 

She smoothed her fingers in a smooth rhythm along the tender edges of Aloy’s swollen bud, listening carefully to the cadence of her breathing and the melody of her moans. Ikrie had never quite understood the appeal of listening to machine songs, but here in the sound of Aloy’s pleasure, there was an undeniable music that Ikrie couldn’t resist. Ikrie tuned her touch carefully to the sound of Aloy’s pleasure, stroking her clit more quickly as Aloy’s breathing picked up. When Aloy suddenly gasped in a choking breath, Ikrie nipped the side of her neck and smoothly slid one finger into her tight heat. 

Aloy let out a sudden sob of pleasure. “ _Ikrie_ ,” she cried, then pulled hard on the Ikrie’s hair and lifted her chin. 

Ikrie immediately captured Aloy’s lips in a hard kiss. Aloy thrust her tongue into Ikrie’s mouth, and Ikrie nipped her delicious tongue and gently curled her finger inside of Aloy’s heat. 

Aloy arched her back fitfully and pressed herself closer to Ikrie’s body, and Ikrie gasped as Aloy’s hand slid up and over her breast. A desperate tingling desire brought Ikrie’s nipples to peak, but she was wearing so many damn _layers_ , and she wanted to focus on Aloy… 

Carefully she withdrew from Aloy’s heat, then slid two fingers into her wetness and stroked in a come-hither motion. Aloy immediately threw her head back and gripped her fingers in her own hair. “Goddess,” she gasped. “Ikrie, I…” 

She cut herself with a sharp whimper and spread her knees more widely. Aloy’s bare belly was taut with her rapid breaths, her back arched like a powershot bow and her body spread wide in invitation, and suddenly Ikrie was dizzy with lust. She wanted to strip Aloy bare, remove every offending scrap of her clothing before removing her own, press herself flush to the cream-and-golden smoothness of Aloy’s skin… 

She kissed Aloy again, stroking her tongue into the welcoming heat of her mouth as she swirled her fingers firmly into the tight warmth of Aloy’s centre, and Aloy thrust back against her hand with a wanton abandon that only served to drive Ikrie’s desperation ever higher. 

Suddenly Aloy broke the kiss and reached down to grip Ikrie’s wrist. “Wait,” she gasped. 

Ikrie immediately withdrew her hand from Aloy’s leggings. “Are you okay?”

Aloy nodded, her breaths still short and sharp. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she panted. Then she gave a sudden breathless laugh. “It’s just… it feels…” She waved her hand vaguely, then glanced shyly at Ikrie. “I never tried that before. I like it,” she added hurriedly. “It’s just… a lot.” 

Ikrie smiled fondly. She understood the feeling perfectly. “Yeah, it is.” She gently kissed Aloy, then settled down on her side with her head cushioned on her arm. Aloy rolled towards her, and they gazed at each other in warm silence for a long moment. 

Ikrie unabashedly admired Aloy’s face. Her expression was both relaxed and intense, a slight sheen of sweet highlighting her forehead and cheeks, and she’d never looked more beautiful. 

Aloy bit her lip uncertainly, then shifted slowly closer to Ikrie. She reached out and slid her hand over Ikrie’s hip. “What about you?” she whispered. 

Ikrie bit the inside of her cheek and inhaled slowly to quell the fresh swelling of desire in her belly. There was no denying that she badly wanted Aloy’s touch, but she knew Aloy’s face well; there was something tentative about her expression now, a hint of nerves in the cant of her eyebrows, and that was the last thing Ikrie wanted between them. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Ikrie murmured. “I want to wait. If that’s okay.”

Aloy exhaled quietly. “Are you sure?” she asked. 

Aloy’s soft exhale was all Ikrie needed to confirm her suspicions. A burst of tenderness flowered in her chest, and she nodded, then stroked her palm gently over Aloy’s hair and shifted closer until their knees were touching. “I’m sure,” she whispered. “I just want you to kiss me.”

Aloy smiled, then slowly pressed herself against Ikrie and wrapped her arm around Ikrie’s waist. “I can do that,” she breathed. She gently nipped Ikrie’s lower lip, and Ikrie gave a tiny, helpless gasp at the playful tug of Aloy’s teeth.

A long, blissful moment later, Aloy pulled back from their kiss and gazed seriously at her. “Will you teach me what to do?” 

Aloy’s expression was as serious and earnest as her question, and Ikrie stroked her jaw tenderly. “I’m not teaching you anything,” she whispered. “I prefer to hunt together, remember? We’re going into this together.” 

Aloy smiled slowly, then chuckled. “Everything’s about the hunt for you, isn’t it?” 

Her voice was a teasing purr, and Ikrie _loved_ it. She grinned and pulled Aloy closer, then slid her knee between Aloy’s thighs. “Of course,” she replied. “And just like hunting, we’ll get better the more we practice.” 

Aloy laughed again, and Ikrie basked in the husky tone of her voice. Aloy was pliant and warm under her fingers, her lips hot and greedy, and if this was what their ‘practice’ would be like, Ikrie could see a _lot_ of training in their future.


	11. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Most of this chapter takes place at [this waterfall.](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/169429110553/i-am-water-soft-enough-to-offer-life-tough-enough) For those who have read my Niloy fics, it's NOT the same waterfall (that waterfall is sacred) but I obviously have a "thing" for waterfalls... sorrynotsorry...
> 
> Oh, also, NSFW smut.

Ikrie brushed Aloy’s hair back from her shoulder and rose from her sitting position by the cold firepit. “Are you done? Should I wrap this up?” 

Aloy smiled at Ikrie’s casually affectionate gesture and rose to her feet as well. “Yeah. I’ll pack up the bedrolls.” 

It was late morning, and the two women were finishing a late breakfast before heading into the Sundom proper. Aloy was looking forward to introducing Ikrie to the jungle. Ikrie’s enthusiasm about everything new was so endearing, and Meridian’s jungle was so completely opposite from the pristine snow of the Cut that Aloy just knew Ikrie’s reaction wouldn’t disappoint.

While rolling up their bedding, Aloy pondered how to tell Ikrie about the next part of her history without it becoming a confusing mess. Explaining her connection to Elisabet was difficult since even Aloy didn’t know exactly how GAIA had managed to make a copy of Elisabet. Aloy knew that contributions were needed from both a man and a woman in order to produce a child, but GAIA had only used part of Elisabet when making Aloy… so how did that work? 

Aloy shook her head slightly as she fastened the bedrolls to a placid Strider. _Ikrie doesn’t need that much detail to start,_ she reminded herself. _Big picture first. Then if she asks for details… Well, we can figure that out later._

Aloy glanced surreptitiously at her partner. The Banuk huntress was carefully rearranging the machine parts and herbal remedies in the boarskin pack around her waist, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and Aloy smiled to herself. It was so refreshing to have someone that she could not only tell the truth, but who had the intelligence and curiosity to potentially help Aloy in her ongoing goal to restore GAIA and to bring the subfunctions back under the AI’s control. 

_One thing at a time,_ Aloy thought. First Ikrie had to get the whole story; then she could decide whether she was interested in helping Aloy or not. But Aloy couldn’t help but hope that Ikrie would choose to stick with her. 

At that moment, Ikrie looked up and caught Aloy’s eye. She quirked one eyebrow and smiled, and Aloy smirked back even as her cheeks warmed from the heat in Ikrie’s gaze. She hastily turned back to her Strider and finished fastening the bedrolls in place with slightly clumsy fingers. 

With that single heated glance, Aloy’s mind abruptly circled back to the previous night and the memory of Ikrie’s hands sliding over her skin. Aloy had no experience with this kind of intimacy, aside from some half-hearted experimentation on nights when Rost had gone on overnight hunts and left her alone in their cabin. If Aloy was totally honest, she’d never had much interest. Any passing curiosity she had about her own body was swiftly subsumed by her much stronger urge to train harder, hunt better, be the perfect Brave so she could finally get the answers she’d wanted for so long. Then the Proving happened, and Rost died, and Aloy had no time or inclination for anything but figuring out why the Eclipse wanted to kill her, and avenging Rost. And things had only become more complex as she travelled further. Deathbringers, Elisabet and Ted, Sylens and the Eclipse, GAIA and the subfunctions… 

_I never had time._ This had been Elisabet’s reason for never having children. Sometimes in quiet moments of rest, Aloy thought back to that recorded conversation between Elisabet and GAIA, to that link between herself and the woman she was copied from. When it came to relationships, Aloy had always felt the way Elisabet had described: there was no time. Aloy had never really thought she was missing anything; she was always moving forth and pressing onwards, always learning something new and fascinating. She hadn’t realized how lonely she was; she’d been too busy. 

And then a freckled Banuk huntress had appeared, wielding an ice-filled sling but passionate as blazefire, and holes in Aloy’s chest that she’d never realized were there were slowly healing. Wounds she’d ignored for so long were soothed by Ikrie’s acceptance, bandaged by the caress of her fine pale hands, leaving something new and tender and _curious_ in their wake. 

Now, with Ikrie by her side, Aloy had time… and a new driving urge that was hard to ignore. 

Ikrie gave a sudden gusty sigh, then pushed back her hood and rubbed her hand roughly over her hair. Her bangs promptly flopped over her forehead, and she rolled her eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Aloy asked. 

Ikrie shot her a rueful smirk. “I need a haircut,” she said. “It’s getting too long at the back. It’s too hot here for this much hair.” 

Aloy eyed Ikrie’s hair with a raised eyebrow. Ikrie’s hair was barely two centimetres long at her nape. “ _You’re_ complaining about having too much hair in this heat?” she said sardonically.

Ikrie grinned and sauntered over to Aloy’s side, then tugged one of Aloy’s braids playfully. “You’re accustomed to having this luscious mane of hair in this heat. I’m still getting used to it. Cut me some slack, why don’t you?”

Aloy smirked. “If it’s so hot, why don’t you take off some of your clothes?”

Ikrie laughed at Aloy’s boldness, then playfully nudged Aloy with her hip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning and idly brushed some dust from her Strider’s flank. “It’s only logical,” she said with a casual shrug. But all flirtiness aside, Aloy was surprised that Ikrie was still wearing her entire Banuk winter getup, minus her headgear and gloves. Aloy would be overly warm too if she was still wearing her Banuk clothes.

Ikrie gave a low chuckle. “I’ll leave the walking around half-naked to you for now,” she purred, then ran her hand over Aloy’s bare waist. 

Aloy’s breath stalled in her chest as Ikrie’s fingers slid from her ribs down to her hip. A distinct shiver of heat rushed from her throat straight down to her groin. Then Ikrie’s hand was gone as she hefted herself onto her Strider. “Besides, I don’t have anything else,” Ikrie added. “I could just take off my coat, I guess…” 

Aloy forced herself to inhale, then slung herself onto her Strider as well. “There’s an idea,” she managed to quip. “I knew you were a smart girl.” 

Ikrie snorted a laugh. “All right then, I see how it is. Turkey soup with a side of sarcasm for breakfast, I get it.” She kicked her Strider’s sides, and the two women fell into an easy gait on their mounts. “Where are we headed today?” 

Aloy jerked her chin to the south. “Into the jungle proper. There’s a great view of Meridian I want to show you. It’ll give you an idea of how big the city is before we get there.” 

Ikrie perked up, just as Aloy had hoped she would. “That sounds great.”

They joked and chatted idly as they rode, their talk interspersed with moments of comfortable quiet, but Aloy couldn’t help but notice that Ikrie kept rubbing the back of her neck as they rode. Finally Aloy addressed it. “Ikrie, I can cut your hair if you want.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “Really? That would be great. It’s driving me crazy.” 

Aloy shrugged agreeably. “I’ll cut it for you when we get to the waterfall. Then you can just wash the trimmings away.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened. “You didn’t say we were going to a waterfall.”

Aloy glanced at her curiously. “Have you never seen a waterfall before?”

Ikrie huffed in amusement. “Of course I have. But they’re usually half- or fully-frozen. I’ve never been to a warm waterfall. Definitely not one that’s pleasant to swim in.” 

“Well, the water won’t be warm, exactly,” Aloy warned. 

Ikrie smirked. “Our definitions of ‘warm’ are probably pretty different.” 

Aloy laughed. “Fair enough.” 

They arrived at their destination just after noon, and Aloy was glad; Ikrie was putting on a surprisingly Banuk show of stoicism, but her usually pale freckled cheeks were pink with the heat, and she was surreptitiously wiping her sweaty face every minute or so. 

Aloy pulled her Strider to a stop and hopped off. “Ikrie, take your coat off.” 

Ikrie ignored her, her eyes wide as she surveyed the view: they were overlooking a rushing river that flowed into a broad waterfall that roared into the jungle below. The ground foliage had gradually thickened during the course of their ride, and thick leafy ferns and tropical plants swished around their Striders’ feet, interspersed with vine-laden trees. The foliage melted into soft golden sand at the edge of the powerfully rushing river. In the distance, Meridian was illuminated by the noon sun, highlighting its tiled roofs and the glittering black Spire with painting-like perfection.

“ _Wow_ ,” Ikrie breathed. “Aloy, this is… beautiful.” 

Ikrie wasn’t wrong, but Aloy didn’t care about the view right now. She frowned and reached up to pull gently at her partner’s arm. “Ikrie, come on. Come down and take off your coat. You’re going to overheat.” 

Ikrie finally tore her gaze from the horizon and smiled down at Aloy, and Aloy frowned more deeply as she surveyed Ikrie’s flushed cheeks. “Okay, okay. So bossy,” Ikrie quipped. She finally slid down from her Strider and unbuckled the pouch around her waist, then began peeling off her coat. 

Aloy solicitously took Ikrie’s coat and rabbit-fur pullover and folded them in a pile at the side of the rushing river. Ikrie pulled off her quilted skirts, boots and legwarmers and carelessly tossed them over beside Aloy’s tidy pile, then rolled up her thick fur-lined pants and stepped carefully into the water. She sighed with relief. “This is amazing,” she groaned. “My feet feel so free!” 

Aloy smiled as Ikrie closed her eyes and tilted her head back rapturously. The paleness of Ikrie’s face and throat seemed to glow in the full noon sun, and Aloy made a mental note to find a shady spot for cutting Ikrie’s hair. 

Ikrie bent over and splashed her face and hair. Rivulets trickled down her wrists and neck, dampening her thin cotton undershirt, and Aloy guiltily admired the lines of Ikrie’s lithe figure. Freed from the warm bulk of winter clothing, the subtle curves of Ikrie’s waist and the roundness of her small breasts was highlighted by the clinging dampness of her shirt.

Aloy inhaled deeply through a greedy surge of lust and forced herself to look away. She felt giddy and foolish, and suddenly she had a new empathy for Avad. Maybe this feeling was what had prompted the Sun-King to proposition her right after he’d found out Ersa had died. She’d long forgiven him for his lapse in judgment, but if his misguided crush on her had been even a fraction of how Aloy was feeling now, she suddenly felt much more charitable towards his silliness.

She idly sipped from her waterskin and tried not to stare at the outlines of Ikrie’s nipples, peaked from the cool water that she continued to splash on her face and neck. “Let me know when you’re ready for your haircut,” she called.

Ikrie straightened and shook her head wildly, scattering drops of water in a cheerful halo, and Aloy laughed as a few cool drops spattered her face and body. Ikrie romped back over to the riverbank where Aloy was waiting, looking much more sprightly than when they’d first arrived, and Aloy was relieved to note that her cheeks had returned to their usual speckled alabaster. “Okay,” Ikrie chirped. “Where do you want to do this?”

Aloy looked around, then pointed to a boulder sheltered by the shade of a tree. “Have a seat there.” Ikrie sat on the boulder as directed, and Aloy rifled in her pouch belt briefly before pulling out a small hinged razor.

She smoothed Ikrie’s wet hair to the side and examined the left side of her head; she would start by trimming the sides of Ikrie’s hair, then the back, then she’d try to trim out some of the weight from the top so Ikrie wouldn’t feel so hot. Aloy couldn’t stop herself from tenderly stroking the line of Ikrie’s ear before taking a tuft of hair and slicing it away carefully with the razor. 

The scraping of insects and rustle of breeze through the foliage were the only sounds for a while as Aloy worked on the left side of Ikrie’s head. Then Ikrie spoke in a soft, sleepy voice. “How do you know how to cut hair?”

Aloy brushed a tuft of hair from Ikrie’s shoulder and inspected her work critically. “I used to cut Rost’s hair. A lot of Nora have very… specific hairstyles.” 

“I can see that,” Ikrie drawled softly. 

Aloy smirked as she carefully trimmed the hair around Ikrie’s ear. “Mine isn’t even the most elaborate. Your hair is easy compared to how Rost liked to keep his.” 

Ikrie’s cheeks lifted in a smile. “That’s nice that you used to cut his hair,” she said softly. “I’ve always found haircuts to be a nice way to just… spend some quiet time together, you know? A little bonding time.”

Aloy paused in her task and frowned. “What do you mean? It was just practical. It made more sense for me to cut his hair than to do it himself.”

Ikrie shrugged slightly. “Well, sure. But… I mean, I can cut my own hair. But it… feels nice. To have you do it for me.” She paused for a moment, then said, “There’s something… _intimate_ about having someone cut your hair, or to cut their hair for them. I’d only let someone cut my hair if I trust them. So don’t mess it up,” she joked. 

Aloy gave a half-hearted huff of amusement, but her chest felt heavy all of a sudden. Maybe Ikrie had a point. After all, Rost _was_ able to cut his own hair; Aloy had sat beside him watching his haircuts when she was a child, fascinated by the careful way he shaved the precise lines into the hair near his temples. He’d started asking her to help when she was 12 or 13 years old, around the age when she’d stopped allowing him to accompany her on hunts. He’d also occasionally offered to help braid her hair as she got older, but she’d always refused since she could do it herself, and eventually he stopped offering. 

Aloy blinked hard to clear the sudden burning in her eyes. She gently smoothed Ikrie’s hair over to the left and began trimming the hair over her right ear. _We should have been more open with each other,_ Aloy thought. She’d never had the chance to tell Rost what he meant to her, and he’d never told her how much he cared, either. It had taken his death - his self-sacrifice - for her to realize it. 

She didn’t blame him; the stoic nature of their relationship had been neither of their faults and both their faults at the same time. Rost had always been so stern, but so was she, and she’d been so single-minded and driven to win the Proving… 

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek hard; her throat felt painful, swollen with the weight of tears she didn’t want to shed, but there was none of the usual resentment in the sorrow clogging her throat as she thought of Rost. It slowly dawned on her that she wasn’t angry anymore that Rost had tried to leave her before the Proving. With Ikrie’s insight, whether intentional or not, she understood now what he’d intended, and she knew that Rost had loved her, whether he’d said so or not. The heavy, painful weight of her heart was no longer edged with a bitter note; it held only sadness now. _I just… miss him,_ she thought. 

A treacherous tear escaped her eye, and she hastily swiped it away as she finished trimming the hair on Ikrie’s right side. “Tilt your head forward a bit,” she said softly. 

Ikrie dutifully followed her instruction. Aloy gently smoothed her fingers over the hair at the nape of Ikrie’s neck, then carefully began slicing the hair in a straight line. 

After a few minutes of working in silence, Ikrie spoke. “Aloy, can you tell me a bit more about Elisabet and GAIA? How did they stop the machines from destroying everything?” 

Aloy took a deep breath. She was grateful for the distraction from her thoughts about Rost, but she worried still that her explanation would be inadequate. Still, she needed to try; Ikrie had been so patient, waiting for Aloy to collect her thoughts and put together the facts, and she deserved more of the story. 

“All right. Well, remember I said that the machine horde would consume everything alive to power themselves and make more of themselves? Elisabet knew she couldn’t stop it from happening. There wasn’t enough time for the Old Ones to learn how to put instructions into the machines; the machines would take over the whole world and kill everything before the Old Ones found a solution. So Elisabet made GAIA, and GAIA’s job was to find a way to put instructions into the machines and stop them, and to bring the world back to life in the future, once the machines were deactivated and the world was safe.” She hesitated, then stated the brutal truth: “They… weren’t able to save themselves. So they made plans to save the future.” 

Aloy paused and brushed some hair from Ikrie’s shoulders. She purposely left MINERVA and the other subfunctions out of the story for now; what she’d just told Ikrie was overwhelming enough as it was. 

Ikrie was quiet for a long time. Aloy finished trimming the hair at the back of her neck, then began slicing out a few long tufts from the top. 

Finally Ikrie spoke again. “So GAIA was successful. It stopped the machines and brought the world back, and that’s how we’re able to live here… but how did we…” She trailed off again, and Aloy waited tensely for Ikrie’s next question. She had a hunch that she knew where Ikrie was going, and she’d been bracing herself for this line of questioning, but she still wasn’t sure she was ready to launch into it. 

“Aloy… how long ago did GAIA to stop the machine horde?”

Ikrie’s voice was quiet and tentative, and Aloy took a deep breath and smoothed her voice into neutrality before answering. “Almost a thousand years ago.”

“A thousand years…” Ikrie’s voice was strained, as though the breath had been knocked out of her. “And when did we… How did people… If machines killed everyone, where did the animals and plants and _people_ come from?” 

Ikrie suddenly went quiet, then reached up and grabbed Aloy’s hand. Aloy tensed as Ikrie turned to look at her, her face bright with excitement. “Everything alive, it was all born in a Cauldron, wasn’t it?” she blurted. “You said you were born in a Cauldron-” 

“A Cradle,” Aloy corrected automatically. “Cauldrons are where machines are made. The facilities where the living stuff is made are called Cradles.” Aloy was stunned by Ikrie’s enthusiasm. Ikrie had always responded to Aloy’s oddness with enthusiasm and interest, but Aloy had still armoured herself for this conversation, preparing for the worst. She hadn’t prepared herself for such a _positive_ reaction. 

“Cradles,” Ikrie repeated slowly, then nodded and said, “So everything alive was born in a Cradle.” She frowned suddenly. “But I wasn’t. I mean, that sounded stupid. Obviously I wasn’t. What I mean is, nobody from our time was born in a Cradle. But _you_ were…. So why…?” Her curious gaze drifted back to Aloy’s face. 

Aloy dropped her gaze and swallowed hard. Ikrie had honed in on the most complicated part of the story much more quickly than she’d anticipated. She gently ran her fingers through Ikrie’s hair. “Turn around,” she said softly. “I’m almost done.” 

Ikrie did as Aloy asked, but not before Aloy caught the flash of a frown on her freckled face. Aloy bit the inside of her cheek guiltily, but she remained silent as she finished cutting Ikrie’s hair. She wasn’t trying to be mysterious, and she knew that Ikrie’s patience would run out eventually, but this part of her history - the fact that GAIA had made her for a _purpose_ \- was the part that seemed the most implausible. It was also the part that made it distinctly clear that Aloy really was different from everyone else. But Ikrie had never treated her that way; she’d always treated her like she was… normal. What if Ikrie started seeing her differently once she knew the truth?

Aloy sliced one last tuft of hair, then leaned back to admire her handiwork. “There,” she announced. “I’m finished.” 

Ikrie ruffled one hand through her hair and turned to look at Aloy, and Aloy was relieved to see her usual mischievous smirk on her face. “So? How do I look?” Ikrie asked. 

Ikrie’s choppy bangs were slightly shorter now, giving her an even more coy and gamine air. Aloy had liked Ikrie’s hair before, but she’d never been more proud of a haircut she’d given. “Perfect,” Aloy said honestly. 

Ikrie’s smirk softened. She squeezed Aloy’s hand gratefully, then stood from her boulder and pulled her shirt over her head. “I’m going to wash the hair off. Want to join me?” 

Ikrie was nude now from the waist up. Aloy stared gormlessly as Ikrie idly wiped some stray hairs from her slender collarbone, then started unlacing her pants. Belatedly Aloy realized her jaw had fallen open, and she snapped her mouth shut in guilty embarrassment. “Uh…” 

Ikrie glanced at her, then double-taked. “Aloy, are you okay? You look flushed.”

“Yeah,” Aloy blurted. “No, I’m fine. It’s just, uh, hot.” Hastily she began fumbling at her pouch belt to prevent her eyes from wandering over the expanse of Ikrie’s pale skin. 

“Come in the water then! Cool off.” A moment later, Aloy heard a soft _flump_ as Ikrie tossed her pants onto the riverbank, then a gentle splash as she stepped into the water. 

Aloy finally turned around in time to see Ikrie submerge herself in the water. She emerged a moment later and ran her hands through her hair, then examined her palms and rinsed the tiny clinging hairs from her hands. She glanced over her shoulder at Aloy. “You coming?” 

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek. Rivulets of water trickled down Ikrie’s back, highlighting the smooth dip of her spine in her lower back. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and Aloy idly wondered how much time Ikrie would have to spend in the sun before her back began to freckle like her cheeks. 

Ikrie slowly turned to face her, and Aloy couldn’t help herself; she eyed the dusky pink of her pert nipples with keen interest. Then she realized that she hadn’t replied to Ikrie’s question. 

Slowly she lifted her eyes to Ikrie’s face, and the slow beat of her pulse between her legs became more insistent as she took in the heated little smile on Ikrie’s lips. Aloy smirked back, then sat comfortably on the riverbank. “I’m all right here. I’ll just… watch.” 

To Aloy’s surprise and amusement, Ikrie’s cheeks turned pink. She chuckled and sank down to her shoulders in the water. “You’re going to make me blush.”

Aloy grinned. “You already are.” She felt oddly relieved at Ikrie’s shyness. Usually Aloy was the one blushing, and it was a nice change to feel like she wasn’t the only one whose feelings were spilling over her face. 

Ikrie huffed in amusement. “Shut up,” she said, then splashed Aloy with a bit of water.

Aloy smiled, then pulled off her sandals and dipped her feet in the water. She watched with satisfaction as Ikrie submerged herself a few more times, ruffling her hands through her short hair to loosen the stray cuttings. 

“I’m surprised you’re so… okay with swimming naked,” Aloy remarked eventually. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be comfortable.” 

Ikrie turned towards her in surprise. “Why do you say that?” She lifted her arms above her head and smoothed the water from her hair, and Aloy unabashedly watched the trail of water as it slid over the curves of Ikrie’s breast and the flat plane of her belly.

Aloy shrugged. “I guess I assumed… well, it’s so cold in the Cut. It must be even colder in Ban-Ur. I can’t imagine you’d want to be naked.” She shrugged sheepishly.

Ikrie smiled. “Well, we don’t go looking for opportunities to stand around naked in freezing water, that’s true. But when we’re bored, we sometimes do it to challenge each other. Some hunters like to say the cold water makes you stronger, but _I_ think that’s just an excuse to hide the fact that they’re actually having fun for once. Banuk hunters aren’t allowed to have fun, right?” Her smile turned wry, but Aloy could see the bitterness underneath. 

Then Ikrie tilted her head. “What about the Nora? They don’t swim naked?”

Aloy shrugged. “I don’t really know. I spent so little time with them.” 

“Hmm,” Ikrie murmured. She tilted her head at Aloy and raised one eyebrow playfully. “Well, maybe it’s time you started.” 

Aloy smiled slowly and leisurely leaned back on her palms. “Maybe I’d rather enjoy the view.” Indeed, Ikrie’s nakedness was far more tempting than the fast-flowing river. A slow simmer of warmth was pulsating between Aloy’s legs, making her feel bold, and she couldn’t help but marvel over the slender curve of Ikrie’s waist, usually so thoroughly hidden by her heavy Banuk coat. Her dusky nipples were pert little peaks, and Aloy suddenly wanted to taste them. But the parts of Ikrie’s figure that were hidden by the waist-deep water were even more intriguing than the parts that Aloy could see. 

Aloy inhaled to find her courage. “Come closer,” she said. 

Ikrie bit her lower lip, then slowly waded towards her. As the water level became shallower, Aloy eagerly dropped her gaze to Ikrie’s belly, then lower as the thatch of raven curls between her legs was finally revealed. 

Aloy slid off the riverbank and into the water to meet her, heedless of her armoured Carja leggings getting wet. She carefully slid her palm over Ikrie’s belly, her thumb tracing the dip of the freckled huntress’s navel and the slight dip below her sternum. 

She paused with her fingers just beneath Ikrie’s breast, and reluctantly lifted her gaze to her Banuk partner’s face in a wordless request for permission. Ikrie’s dark eyes were intense, and she nodded eagerly. “Go ahead,” she whispered.

Reassured, Aloy gently palmed Ikrie’s breast, sliding her thumb over the hardness of her nipple. The curve of her breast fit perfectly in Aloy’s palm, and she swallowed a sudden surge of hunger as she stroked the dusky little pearl with her thumb. 

Ikrie inhaled sharply, then reached for Aloy’s hips and pulled her close. Instinctively Aloy slid one knee between Ikrie’s legs and gently pressed her thigh against her mound. 

Ikrie gasped, and Aloy’s gaze flew up to her face; her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted with pleasure, and Aloy had no choice but to taste the inviting plumpness of her lower lip. 

Ikrie pressed her hips firmly against Aloy’s knee. Her fingers gripped the fabric of Aloy’s Carja silk belt, and Aloy felt the vibration of her moan against her lips. Then Ikrie undulated slowly against her thigh, a sinuous wave of her body that pressed her chest closer to Aloy’s eager palm, and Aloy’s hesitancy abruptly shattered. 

She broke from Ikrie’s kiss and eagerly lowered her mouth to her breast, then kissed her nipple before lapping the tiny bud with her tongue. 

“Oh, sweet winter,” Ikrie breathed. She slid her hands to Aloy’s waist, her nails scraping lightly against her skin. Aloy tugged lightly at her nipple with her lips, then pinched her other nipple lightly before trailing her lips carefully across Ikrie’s sternum to lavish her other breast with her tongue. 

Ikrie arched her back and moaned. The apex of her thighs was hot and inviting against Aloy’s thigh, and finally Aloy couldn’t resist; she slid her knee away from the juncture of Ikrie’s thighs and slid her palm down over Ikrie’s belly. She lifted her mouth from the tender peak of the Banuk huntress’s breast. “Tell me what to do,” she said. 

But Ikrie shook her head. “Do what feels natural to you,” she panted. “You’ll know what I like, I promise.” 

Aloy gave a tiny nervous laugh. “What if you don’t like it?” 

Ikrie slid her fingers into Aloy’s hair and gazed at her seriously. “You’ve barely touched me and I’m halfway there,” she whispered. “Look.” She took Aloy’s hand and guided her fingers between her legs. 

Aloy inhaled shakily as she felt the evidence of Ikrie’s desire on her fingertips. Her lower lips were slick and plump, and Aloy forced herself to exhale normally as she slid her fingers along the length of Ikrie’s cleft, spreading the enticing moisture along her folds. 

Ikrie groaned and pressed her forehead against Aloy’s neck. Her warm breath fanned across Aloy’s collarbone, sending a shiver of excitement down her back. Gently and carefully, she slid one finger between Ikrie’s plump folds until she found the firm bud of her clit. 

It was on the tip of Aloy’s tongue to ask Ikrie what she wanted next, but she swallowed back the impulse and gently stroked the taut little nub. Ikrie whimpered and bucked her hips, her fingers tightening in Aloy’s hair. Encouraged, Aloy continued to pet the taut little nub with a careful gentle rhythm.

Ikrie’s breaths against her neck became deeper and louder, the thrusting of her hips more rhythmic until Aloy eventually tensed her arm and held her fingers still, allowing Ikrie to rub herself against her fingers at her own speed. Aloy’s pulse was a thunder of excitement in her ears and between her legs; Ikrie’s breath was hot on her neck, the fingers of her left hand firm in her hair and her right hand gripping Aloy’s bare waist. 

Suddenly Ikrie slid her hand into Aloy’s Carja vest and pinched her nipple hard. Aloy gasped and squeezed her eyes shut as a bolt of pure pleasure shot from her tender nipple down to her groin. “Ikrie,” she breathed. 

Ikrie lifted her face and pressed her lips to Aloy’s ear. “I’m going to come soon,” she breathed, and a ripple of pure lust rippled through Aloy’s belly at her blunt words. “Will you put your fingers inside me when I say?”

“Yes,” Aloy whispered. She was in a fever-pitch of anticipation now, her ears attuned to the sharpening of Ikrie’s breathing against her ear. She ignored the insistent throbbing of her own groin as she listened carefully for Ikrie’s command.

Ikrie suddenly took a deep, shuddering breath and cried out, then muffled her pleasure cries by biting the side of Aloy’s neck. Aloy gasped in shock and pleasure and tilted her head instinctively to the side to give Ikrie better access. The bite of the Banuk huntress’s teeth was sharp and delicious, heightening her own desire to a surprising degree.

Then Ikrie’s lips were at her ear again, her voice broken with pleasure. “Now,” she whimpered, and Aloy slid two fingers firmly into Ikrie’s tight heat. 

Ikrie mewled with pleasure and squeezed Aloy’s breast firmly, and Aloy couldn’t help but arch into Ikrie’s palm as she curled her fingers in a come-hither motion inside her lover’s body, copying the movement that Ikrie’s fingers had traced inside of her the night before. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Ikrie moaned. She pistoned her hips firmly against Aloy’s hand, but this time Aloy wanted control. She firmly took hold of Ikrie’s hip with her left hand, then turned her face to press her lips to the paleness of her cheek. “Let me touch you,” Aloy murmured. “I want to see what I can do.” 

She watched as goosebumps rippled over Ikrie’s damp skin. “Okay,” she breathed. 

Satisfied, Aloy held Ikrie’s hip firmly and thrust her fingers in a smooth, slow rhythm into her Banuk lover’s wet heat. She listened carefully for the subtle catching of breath and the broken little cries that heralded the right touch, then gradually increased the speed of her swirling fingers. 

Suddenly Ikrie gasped and gripped her fingers in Aloy’s hair so hard that it hurt. “Oh Banukai,” she whimpered. 

Alarmed, Aloy pulled back slightly to look at her. “Are you okay?”

Ikrie nodded furiously, her eyes squeezed shut. “Yes, _yes,_ ” she gasped. “I just- there’s a spot you just touched… I want that,” she pleaded. “Can you…?” 

“Yeah,” Aloy replied eagerly, then repeated the stroking of her fingers until Ikrie vehemently nodded her head again. She gritted her teeth, her fingers firm on Aloy’s nipple as Aloy continued to stroke the sweet spot inside of her. 

Ikrie suddenly gave a huge gasp and an uninhibited cry of rapture. A shudder wracked her body and she pressed her forehead to Aloy’s neck, her shoulders shuddering fitfully and her wet heat contracting around Aloy’s fingers, and Aloy wrapped her left arm around Ikrie’s waist to support her as her climax gradually abated. 

A long, delicious moment later, Ikrie lifted her face from Aloy’s neck, then reached down and gently took hold of her right hand. Aloy watched first with curiosity as Ikrie raised her hand to her mouth, then with a bone-melting rush of desperate lust as Ikrie carefully licked her own arousal from Aloy’s fingers, then sucked her fingers clean. 

Aloy couldn’t breathe. Her Banuk lover’s eyes were intense but tender on her face as she slid her fingers out of her mouth. “I want to taste you,” Ikrie murmured. “Can I take off your clothes?” 

Aloy couldn’t speak. She’d never bared herself in front of anyone before, but with Ikrie’s hands on her body and the promise of her mouth between her legs, there wasn’t a single inhibition in Aloy’s mind. She nodded jerkily, then shamelessly began to pull off her own clothes. She managed to get her own vest and cropped silk blouse off before Ikrie gently pushed at her midriff. “Sit down on the riverbank,” Ikrie ordered. “I’ll do the rest.”

Obediently Aloy sat at the edge of the river, then watched with increasing desperation as Ikrie slowly undid her belt, removed her pouches, slid off her tassets and rolled down her leggings. 

Ikrie gently tossed the clothes aside, her eyes roving greedily over Aloy’s bared skin. Aloy stared eagerly back, slightly surprised and relieved to feel nothing but hunger and anticipation. Ikrie’s fingers had brought her to dizzying heights last night, but the act that Ikrie had just suggested was even more intimate, a tantalizing idea that Aloy had only recently and vaguely begun to consider. 

Ikrie’s face was bright with intent, her eyes fixed on the red-and-gold curls between her legs. Ikrie bit her lip, then kneeled in the shallow edge of the river and slid her palms along the insides of Aloy’s thighs. 

Aloy shuddered and lifted her hips pleadingly. She knew she was hopelessly wet, could feel the slickness of her moisture on her thighs and the insistent throbbing of want between her legs, and the intense focus of Ikrie’s gaze was quickly becoming unbearable. “Please,” she whimpered. “Taste me like you said.”

Ikrie lifted her gaze and smiled. “Maybe I want to enjoy the view,” she said cheekily.

Aloy let out a breathless laugh, then lost her breath entirely as Ikrie lowered her face between her legs and stroked her tongue along the length of her cleft. The tip of her tongue danced delicately around Aloy’s swollen bud, and Aloy clenched her fist in her hair. She’d thought Ikrie’s fingers between her legs was bliss, but _this_... 

The Banuk huntress’s tongue was hot and smooth, the pressure varying from firm to breathtakingly light, and the look Ikrie shot her from between her legs was so sly and so _knowing_ that it only drove Aloy’s lust even higher. Impatiently she bucked her hips, lifting her sex towards Ikrie’s face, and Ikrie grinned for a moment before tracing the periphery of her tender clit in a perfect circular pattern. 

Aloy panted fitfully, surprised at how swiftly the vibrating pleasure was rising in her abdomen. On the few occasions that she’d experimented on her own, it had taken a long time for her to become even a fraction as excited as she was right now. Her pleasure was gathering and roiling in her abdomen, fostered by the skillful lapping of her lover’s tongue. 

Then Ikrie carefully slid one finger into her heat and curled her finger gently, and Aloy jolted and keened a broken note of rapture. The pressure of Ikrie’s finger still felt incredibly intense, but Ikrie was holding still, her finger crooked slightly inside of Aloy’s body, and somehow the slight fullness was kicking her pleasure even higher. 

Ikrie’s skillful tongue laved her folds with a smooth, sleek pressure, and Aloy’s fingers were convulsively gripped against her scalp now. She stared unseeingly at the azure sky, her mind fully focused on the overwhelming sensation building in her core, until finally the pleasure split free, bursting over her in a shower of sparking rapture that tore a broken cry from her throat. 

She arched her back and spread her legs wider, her lips open on a gasp of ecstasy as Ikrie continued to lap gently at her sex. Moments later, Ikrie finally lifted her face and gazed up at Aloy. 

“I can keep going,” she offered huskily, and curled her finger more firmly inside of Aloy’s heat. 

Aloy jolted and gasped; she felt raw from her climax, a shiver of sensation in her core like the residual electricity from Shellwalker’s shock, and the stroking of Ikrie’s finger was right on the edge of just-right and too-much. Aloy reached down and rested her hand gently on Ikrie’s wrist. “Not right now,” she panted. “Come lie here with me.” 

Ikrie smiled, and Aloy’s heart fluttered at the perfect expression of happiness on her face. Ikrie quickly rinsed her face, then lay down on her back and pulled Aloy close. 

Aloy raised herself onto her elbow and admired the sheen of Ikrie’s pale skin. She traced her finger idly along her Banuk partner’s collarbone. “We need to get you some more sun,” she murmured. “You need more freckles to decorate your skin.” 

Ikrie chuckled gently. “That’ll only happen if I’m naked more often. Can you deal with that?”

Aloy smiled and gently pushed Ikrie’s bangs away from her forehead. “I think I’ll manage somehow.”

Ikrie grinned back as Aloy settled down with her head on Ikrie’s arm. They lay in comfortable silence for a long, peaceful moment.

Then Ikrie sighed. “Jokes aside, is it weird that I kind of want to just… leave my clothes here? They’re overly warm. I won’t need them anymore in this heat, right?” She turned her head and smiled ruefully at Aloy.

Aloy forced herself not to frown. For the second time today, Ikrie was trying to be lighthearted about leaving Ban-Ur, but that subtle hint of sadness in her eyebrows was a truth that Aloy couldn’t deny. But she didn’t want to bring Ikrie’s spirit down.

She shrugged. “Travelling light is always nice,” she replied. “But let’s not leave anything behind for now. You never know when you might need your heavy coat. We might go to Pitchcliff eventually, and it gets pretty cold there. They even get snow.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Parts of the Sundom get snow?” she demanded. “I thought these lands were all hot. Hot desert, hot jungle, but all hot.”

Aloy smiled. “Most of it is, but not all. You’ll see.” She patted Ikrie’s midriff affectionately, then heaved a heavy sigh. “Should we get moving?” 

Ikrie gave a loud, melodramatic sigh that made Aloy smirk. “I suppose.” 

They dressed quickly, with Ikrie deigning only to put on her pants, boots and undershirt, then Aloy clicked her tongue to call their Striders over. They hopped onto their mounts, then set out at a leisurely pace.

“What did you have in mind now?” Ikrie asked. 

“I was thinking to head to Meridian, if you’re okay with that?” Aloy suggested. “I’ll warn you, it’s noisy there. I could barely hear myself think when I first arrived. But it’s a really lively place, full of new sights and sounds. I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

“Everything you’ve shown me has been great so far,” Ikrie replied. “Lead the way, partner.”

A bittersweet wave of gratefulness - and anxiety - pulsed in Aloy’s chest. She could only hope that Ikrie would still want her as a partner when Aloy told her the whole truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello friends! So I just wanted to let you all know that this fic might go on a bit of a hiatus. I just finished playing DA:I and I'm kind of obsessed and I need to play the Trespasser DLC now, but more importantly, I'm thinking of doing a cosplay for DragonCon in August and I need to learn how to um, make the costume and stuff, and that will require a lot of time because I'm a noob... so I have to prioritize those things above the writing for now. 
> 
> Please don't despair though! As I said before, I've never started a longfic that I didn't finish, so this is certainly not abandoned. Just a temporary hiatus until I find some more time. 
> 
> Much love and hugs for all those who have been with me thus far! xoxo


	12. Three Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'M BACK FROM SOLAVELLAN HELL YA'LL! Thank you all so much for your patience!! I hope you enjoy this chapter! No smut this time, folks, but no worries, the smut will return.
> 
> FYI, I had to reread this fic to remember what I had already written LOL, and in so doing I realized that I use Aloy and Ikrie's names a lot for fear of things getting confusing... like a LOT a lot. It's pretty repetitious and boring to read, and I apologize for that; I tried to do better in this chapter with NOT repeating their names constantly, so I hope it flows more smoothly. Let me know what you guys think. 
> 
> Oh, also, for those who are fans of my Niloy work, some repeating themes again. I dunno ok, I don't have that much imagination, sorry... XD

“Uh-oh. I think you’re getting a sunburn.” Aloy reached over and gingerly ran her fingers over Ikrie’s exposed neck. “I should have left your hair a bit longer back here.”

A jolt of pleasure fluttered through Ikrie’s chest at her redheaded partner’s casual touch. Ikrie was a big fan of tactile affection - Mailen had always called her a ‘hugger’ - but she knew Aloy wasn’t as fond of casual physical touch. Ever since they’d become intimate, Ikrie had been trying to keep her hands to herself to respect Aloy’s sense of space, but the gentle stroke of Aloy’s fingers seemed to signal a softening of her reserve.

Ikrie bit back a goofy smile and rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t worry about me. A burnt neck is a small price to pay for freedom.” She ruffled her hand through her neatly-trimmed hair and grinned at Aloy, who shot her a chiding smile. 

“Well, I don’t want to hear complaints when you need hintergold paste for that neck.” Aloy ushered her closer. “Come on. Stick to the shade.” 

Ikrie obligingly stepped closer to join her partner in the deeper shade of the jungle. “Aw, listen to you fussing over me. But I thought you wanted to see what I look like with freckles all over. I need more sun for that.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and watched with fond amusement as a tint of pink lit the Nora huntress’s cheeks. 

Ikrie laughed as Aloy smirked and gently shoved her back into the scattered sunlight that managed to slice through the jungle’s thick foliage. “Twisting my words, I see how it is. You go trample through the sun then and see if I care.” 

Ikrie tutted in mock censure. “How dare you. I don’t _trample_. I sneak.” 

Aloy snorted. “You sound like Nil. You really are getting into the spirit of the Sundom, aren’t you?”

Ikrie smiled and flung her arms wide. “How could I not? It’s glorious here. Hotter than a shaman’s fire, but glorious.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, then inhaled deeply. The jungle just smelled so damned good, and Ikrie couldn’t get over the foreign but deeply intoxicating scent. It smelled like water and soil, and there were wafts of sweetness that Aloy said were coming from the ostentatiously colourful flowers. It smelled like _life_. The air was moist and thick, leaving a lush feeling of fullness in her lungs with every breath, and Ikrie revelled in how different it was from the sharp, cold air of Ban-Ur.

“I’m glad you like it,” Aloy said. She tilted her chin up to study the canopy. “I love the jungle. It’s quiet here. Well, not really quiet,” she amended, “but… peaceful. It’s still even though it’s not...” 

She tugged one of her braids and trailed off with a frown, but Ikrie reached out and took her hand. “I get you,” she said. “I feel it too. It’s like a stillness that’s also dynamic. Like a river, or a steady drumbeat. There’s just something about this place that _flows_. Maybe this is what the shamans mean when they talk about the Blue Light moving through everything.” She lifted her gaze to the canopy in an unconscious mirroring of Aloy’s pose. “Maybe it’s not a blue light after all. Maybe it’s green.”

Aloy didn’t reply, and finally Ikrie looked at her again… then enjoyed another jolt of excitement at the intensity of the Nora huntress’s gaze. Her hazel eyes were greener than ever in the verdant glow of the jungle, and though she was smiling faintly, her face was very serious. 

Ikrie swallowed hard as Aloy took a step closer, then hesitantly raised her hand and ran her knuckles along Ikrie’s cheek. A delicious ripple of goosebumps ran down her neck at the delicacy of Aloy’s touch, and she couldn’t pry her gaze from the captivating snare of her partner’s emerald gaze if her life depended on it. 

They stared at each other without speaking for a long, tingling moment, and finally Ikrie’s nerves got the best of her. “What?” she whispered.

Aloy shook her head, her eyes still fixed on Ikrie’s face. “Nothing. I just…” She trailed off and shook her head again, then smiled and leaned in. 

The kiss she pressed to Ikrie’s lips was delicate but not hesitant, sweet and just firm enough to foster an unbearable lifting feeling in Ikrie’s belly. Helplessly she parted her lips, and before she could take another breath, she and Aloy were twined together more tightly than vines around a tree. Aloy’s waist was smooth and solid in the circle of her arms, her callused hands warm and tender as they slid from Ikrie’s arms up to cradle her neck, and Ikrie basked in the dual heat of the jungle and her Nora lover for a long, blissful moment. 

Aloy finally pulled away, and Ikrie stared gormlessly into the glowing green of her eyes until she smiled. “Come on, ice hunter,” she whispered. “There should be a pack of Snapmaws along this river. You can practice with the ropecaster again.” 

Aloy’s thumb smoothed idly along her jawline, and Ikrie forced herself to breathe. “Hunting. Right. That’s a thing we do. Let’s go do that,” she said. 

A brilliant grin lit the Nora’s face, and she laughed as she released Ikrie from her embrace. “Can’t let those skills of yours go to waste. I’d never forgive myself.” 

Ikrie followed her partner’s trail as she headed south along a burbling river. “I have skills at lots of things,” she replied blandly. “Find me a secluded cave and I’ll show you what I mean.”

She admired the flush of Aloy’s smiling cheeks as she replied with equal blandness. “What, cave-painting? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

A very lewd comment about caves sat at the tip of Ikrie’s tongue, but she bit it back with much restraint. Aloy was giving back as good as she got, but Ikrie could see the hints of shyness in her reddened cheeks and the tugging of her braid. As uninhibited as Aloy was in the midst of their passions, sex was still new to her, and Ikrie knew she’d need time to get used to this new facet of herself.

She took mercy on her partner and settled on a less salacious reply. “I _should_ learn to become an artist,” she said. “With all these colourful plants everywhere? I bet the Carja have some amazing pigments.” 

Aloy gave Ikrie a thoughtful look. “You know what, I can’t say I’ve ever seen a Carja painting,” she said. “They’re all about architecture, fine metalworks, fabrics and fancy clothing. Honestly, the most talented painters I’ve ever met are Banuk.” She shrugged. “You’re right about the pigments though. Some of the clothing colours I’ve seen…” 

Ikrie thought back to Nil’s odd purple pants. “Hah. I can see that.” 

They snickered briefly before continuing along the river in comfortable silence. Their hands brushed together pleasantly while they walked, and Ikrie continued to breathe deeply as she enjoyed the scraping of insects and the chittering of birds.

Aloy eventually slowed down and tapped her Focus. Her eyes darted to the left, and she jerked her chin in the direction of her gaze. “Six Snapmaws, about a hundred paces away,” she murmured. “And…” A grin lit her face, and Ikrie raised her eyebrows curiously until Aloy tapped her Focus off. 

“Some hunters are there too. Friends,” she clarified, as Ikrie raised her eyebrows. “I met them in the Cut, actually. You all have a lot in common. Let’s go meet them.” She crouched and slid into some taller grass, then smirked at Ikrie. “Show me those sneaking skills of yours.”

“Challenge accepted. Not even a challenge,” Ikrie replied confidently, then slid into the grass beside Aloy and slunk off in the direction of the Snapmaws. 

Eventually they neared the patch of grass where Aloy’s friends were hidden, and Aloy leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Let’s give them this pack,” she whispered. “They pride themselves on-” 

Suddenly one of the Banuk hunters broke the peace with a loud, enthusiastic shout. “Aloy! _Hey!_ You guys, look, it’s Aloy!”

The other two hunters - an older man and a young woman - looked up at the younger man’s call. The older man smiled and raised a hand in greeting, but the woman immediately turned back around to glare at the younger man. “Shut up, Urkai, you’re giving us away!”

Sure enough, the pack of Snapmaws by the river whipped around, their headlights flashing straight from blue to red. Aloy sighed as she stood from the grass, then shot the young woman a rueful glance as she pulled her bow from her back. “Tatai, good to see you. Some things never change, huh?”

“Yeah. His mouth runs all the faster in this heat,” Tatai grunted. A second later, the Snapmaws were upon them, and there was no further time for talk. 

Ikrie whipped out her sling and slathered four of the Snapmaws in chillwater before rolling aside to avoid the lunge of a fifth machine. Urkai whooped loudly with appreciation. “Banukai’s breath, Aloy, your friend here’s got a killer arm!” 

“Look behind you, idiot!” Tatai yelled, and Ikrie watched with amusement as the ornery huntress shot an arrow into the eye of a Snapmaw that was coiled to spring behind the young man. 

Ikrie slid through the ferns to Aloy’s side. “Those two are good friends, I see,” she panted. 

Aloy smirked as she shot a swift barrage of arrows at a sparking Snapmaw. “How could you tell?” 

“The bickering,” Ikrie replied succinctly. She pulled her bow from her back and nocked three arrows, then loosed them easily into the healthiest Snapmaw’s blaze canister. 

A huge conflagration erupted from the hapless machine, lighting a nearby handicapped Snapmaw on fire as well, and Ikrie lowered her bow and grinned at Aloy. “I think my work is done here.”

Aloy grinned back and racked her own weapons, and they watched as the three hunters efficiently finished off the remaining four Snapmaws. When all the machines were sparking and still, Aloy and Ikrie approached the little group.

Aloy nodded to Tatai as she grasped the older man’s arm in greeting and accepted Urkai’s enthusiastic clap on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you,” she said, then ushered Ikrie close. “Ikrie, these are the Scars of the North: Tulemak, Tatai, and Urkai.” 

Ikrie tilted her head curiously. “The Scars of the North. I’ve not heard of your werak before.” 

“We’re new,” Tatai replied. “We don’t answer to any of Ban-Ur’s old chieftains.”

Ikrie nodded a cautious acknowledgment as Tulemak gently patted Tatai’s shoulder. There was a belligerence the woman’s tone that clearly indicated a deeper story, but it wasn’t Ikrie’s place to pry. 

“Ikrie is making her own way in the world too, just like you,” Aloy said. Her tone was polite but firm, and Ikrie smiled at the pride in her partner’s expression before turning back to the little werak. 

“I like your werak name,” Ikrie said. “What’s the story behind it?”

Tatai bowed her head, and Tulemak answered her question in a soft, kind voice. “A scar is a sign that you’ve been hurt, but that you’ve healed. It’s a sign of strength.” He squeezed Tatai’s shoulder once more until she raised her face and gave him a stiff little half-smile. 

Ikrie raised her eyebrows in true appreciation. “Wow. That’s… an incredible name, actually.” 

“We’re very fond of it,” Tulemak said, then nodded respectfully to Aloy. “I hope you think we’ve lived up to it, Aloy.”

Ikrie glanced at Aloy in surprise. “Wait. _You_ came up with their werak name?”

“Yep,” Urkai interjected. He smiled proudly at the Nora huntress. “Aloy heard our story and gave us our name. She really _heard_ us, you know? She knows who we really are. She’s our honorary shaman.” He gave Aloy a friendly punch in the arm. 

Ikrie’s mouth dropped open slightly. So she wasn’t the only Banuk who saw Aloy as having skills befitting a shaman! She turned to grin at Aloy, who raised one eyebrow. “What?” she asked.

Ikrie shrugged and shook her head, but she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. “Nothing,” she said, then jerked her chin at the group of dead Snapmaws. “Hey, speaking of shamans, we should probably start looting these before the Glinthawks show up.” She tilted her head expectantly, ready to assist her partner with stripping the machines as they usually did. 

But to Ikrie’s surprise, Urkai brightened up and strutted over to kneel beside the defunct machines. “We can do it!” he chirped. “I’m an expert at this now. I’ve been practicing.” He shot Tatai a belligerent glance as he pulled a handful of tools from his belt. 

Tatai snorted and folded her arms. “Here we go. Try not to break any of the _really_ valuable bits this time.”

Ikrie watched with wide eyes as Urkai set to work. It made sense for these hunters to know how to strip machines given that they travelled without a shaman, but the sight of Banuk hunters blithely stripping machines without a blessing was still somewhat discombobulating.

She turned to Aloy. “Did _you_ teach them how to loot the machines?” 

Aloy shook her head, her eyes on the little werak. “No. I stripped the machines for them when we hunted together in the Cut. They were… umm… okay, they were hopeless. It was a mess.” She released a rueful laugh. “But before they left the Cut, I suggested they speak to an Oseram merchant who could show them how to loot machines properly.” She tilted her head. “Clearly they found him. Urkai’s not doing too badly at all.”

Her tone was matter-of-fact, but her expression was surprisingly soft as she watched the Banuk hunters working and arguing together, and Ikrie studied her thoughtfully. She hadn’t had much opportunity to see Aloy interacting with other people; there had been Nil and Petra and Varga, but those were three very confident individuals. Ikrie had only met them once, but she got the sense that they were each very self-assured.

This little group of hunters was different. They’d clearly experienced something deeply painful that hadn’t quite rinsed clear from their hearts, and it was equally clear that Aloy had helped them work through it. Despite their competent hunting, it was also clear that Aloy felt protective of them. 

Aloy gave her a tiny smile before stepping away to slowly approach the group. Ikrie watched as the flame-haired huntress murmured something quietly to Urkai, who listened carefully before turning back to the Snapmaw and working for a minute. He then raised his face and grinned triumphantly at Tatai, who rolled her eyes and smirked. 

A swelling affection was pulsing in Ikrie’s chest, and she had to remind herself to breathe. It shouldn’t be affecting her so much to see this obvious evidence of Aloy’s empathy; after all, empathy was one of the first things that Aloy had ever shown to her on the first day they had met. But Aloy was usually so reserved with other people. She kept this tender part of her heart so closely guarded, showing it only to Ikrie and then only during their quiet nights of rest. It was just so nice to see Aloy feeling comfortable. 

Finally Urkai rose to his feet and elbowed Tulemak in a jocular manner before placing an immaculately carved Snapmaw heart in Aloy’s hands. He turned to Tatai, and his loud and playful voice carried over to Ikrie. “Your turn, Tatai. Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

Aloy strolled back over to Ikrie’s side, but her smile faded into a look of concern as she approached. “Hey. You okay?” she asked quietly. 

Ikrie cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m good,” she said. She reached out and gently wiped a stray streak of mud from her partner’s cheek.

The concern faded from Aloy’s face, and she lowered her eyes with a shy smile before glancing at the Scars of the North again. “Come on, let’s leave them to it. They know what they’re doing.” She smiled to herself, and again Ikrie felt a pulse of nearly-painful fondness at the subtle pride in Aloy’s face. 

They strolled over to the three hunters to say their farewells. “Aw, you leaving already?” Urkai complained, but Tatai elbowed him. “They’ve got better things to do than watch you hunting,” she mocked, then smirked at Aloy and Ikrie. “Join us again sometime,” she offered gruffly. 

Ikrie smiled and nodded agreement as Tulemak grasped their forearms in farewell. “Be careful in your travels,” he warned. “We came across a huge metal bird off to the southeast there. Three times the size of a Glinthawk and shooting lightning from its chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you southerners had a Thunder’s Drum of your own to put out such a monster.” 

Ikrie’s eyes widened at this description, but Aloy suddenly grinned. “A Stormbird,” she breathed, and Ikrie whipped around to stare at her in excitement. This was the machine that Aloy had described as being her favourite. 

Indeed, Aloy’s eyes were ablaze with enthusiasm, and she eagerly gripped Ikrie’s arm. “We’re so close to Meridian, I know I told you we’d arrive there today, but - if a Stormbird is so close by, I really want you to see-”

“Let’s do it,” Ikrie interrupted. “I want to see this beast!” 

Urkai laughed loudly. “Spoken like a true hunter!” he exclaimed, then slapped Ikrie amiably on the shoulder. “Survive and prevail to tell us the tale, all right?” 

Ikrie shot him a swift grin, but she didn’t have time to reply; Aloy had whistled for two Striders, and she tugged impatiently at Ikrie’s hand as two of the trusty steeds trotted up beside them. Seconds later they were pelting through the jungle as quickly as their Striders would carry them. 

“You’ll definitely have to use the ropecaster this time!” Aloy yelled. “I hope you’re up for it!”

“I’m up for anything!” Ikrie shouted back, and was rewarded by Aloy’s wild laughter.

Ten minutes later, Aloy pulled her Strider to halt as she tapped her Focus. She lifted her chin and looked off to the right, then grinned and pointed silently at the sky. 

Ikrie turned to look, and her jaw dropped with awe. Exactly as Tulemak had said, it was a huge bird easily three to four times the size of a Glinthawk, with an ominous crackling of electricity across its chest. “The Stormbird?” she breathed.

“None other,” Aloy said brightly. “It’s flying over a pond, so we have to gear up properly. This could get messy,” she warned, but the brilliant smile on her face mitigated her cautious words, and Ikrie couldn’t help but laugh at her zeal. 

The two women slid off their steeds. Aloy dug into her pack, then dragged out some heavy-looking armour and handed it to Ikrie. “Here,” she said briskly. “This is of Oseram make. It’ll protect you. I’ll be fine,” she added swiftly as Ikrie opened her mouth to protest. “I’ve done this before. I’ll just slather on the shock wax root.” She pulled a small bottle of shock wax tincture from her pack, then poured herself a handful before thrusting the bottle at Ikrie. “Quickly!”

Ikrie dutifully applied the shock wax tincture and pulled on the Oseram armour with slightly shaking hands. She felt giddy with excitement and nerves. It was one thing to tackle a Thunderjaw just the two them; a Thunderjaw was a known quantity, an enemy that Ikrie was familiar with. This magnificent Stormbird was a total unknown. But if Aloy trusted her to use the ropecaster right, then Ikrie refused to disappoint her. 

Aloy turned to her with a blazing look of anticipation, but her expression softened almost immediately as she examined Ikrie’s face. She took a step closer and grasped Ikrie’s shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” Ikrie said boldly. “Let’s do this.” She turned towards Aloy’s Strider to unhook the ropecaster from its side, but Aloy’s fingers tightened on her shoulder before she could step away. 

“Ikrie,” she said. Her voice was quiet and gentle, and Ikrie swallowed hard; Aloy was gazing at her tenderly, and the warmth in her gaze was enough to soothe some of the jangling in Ikrie’s belly. 

Aloy reached up and brushed a stray tuft of Ikrie’s bangs from her forehead. “It’s not going to hurt you,” she said. “I won’t let it. I promise.” 

Her voice was soft but supremely confident, her gaze suddenly fierce, and Ikrie completely believed her. She exhaled, then finally nodded her head. “Okay. Just tell me what to do,” she said. 

Aloy smiled, then swiftly explained the Stormbird’s strengths and weaknesses. “If it lands on the ground and raises its wings, just run away,” she finished. “That means it’s setting up for a huge shock blast. You’ll be mostly protected by your armour, but it’ll fling you off your feet.” She squeezed Ikrie’s hand and gazed at her intently. “You’re going to do great, no matter what,” she said. “Now come on, ice hunter.” 

Without further ado, they hurried to the edge of the pool. When the Stormbird flew within range, Aloy shot a barrage of tearblast arrows at its wings. 

The characteristic thrum-and-boom of the tearblast arrows was followed immediately by an enraged shriek as the Stormbird’s headlight flared an angry red. “Yes!” Aloy cried. “Get over here, bird!” 

Ikrie didn’t waste her breath responding; she was too intent on admiring the Stormbird while also watching her footing. The last thing she wanted do was trip over a rock while trying to aim. When the Stormbird swooped low, she and Aloy both rolled to dodge, and Ikrie swiftly slung a handful of icebombs at the Stormbird’s chest.

The bird’s front was instantly covered in a white web of frost, temporarily quelling the sizzling snap of power from its lightning gun, and Aloy whooped in a very Urkai-like manner. “Beautiful!” she called. “Next step, now!”

Ikrie nodded, then joined Aloy in shooting a few hunter arrows at the Stormbird; their goal was to lure it into landing, so Ikrie could bind it with the ropecaster. 

Their plan worked out perfectly. Within a few short, tense minutes, the Stormbird landed in front of them with an earth-shaking shriek. It lifted its wings and took two menacing steps toward them, and Ikrie _ran_. 

She felt the flare of the Stormbird’s shock blast as an odd tingling along her scalp and the back of her neck. Danger now gone, she screeched to a halt and turned back to pelt toward the enormous metal bird. 

“Here I go!” she shouted. She slid into position near the Stormbird’s left wing, then began shooting rope after rope at the joints of its wings until Aloy shouted out, “Next!”

Ikrie ran around behind the bird and slid into place near its right wing while simultaneously shooting a rope. Aloy shouted something triumphant, but Ikrie didn’t hear it; all she could hear was the pounding of her excited pulse in her ears as she bound the bird slowly but inexorably to the ground. 

“It’s done!” Aloy shouted. “Step back, step back!” 

Ikrie did as she was told, then scurried around to join Aloy in front of the bird. The Stormbird pulled furiously at each of its wings, but to no avail; it was securely bound, and Ikrie felt a surge of deep satisfaction at a job well done. 

Aloy pulled her spear from her back. “Keep an eye on the ropes,” she said breathlessly. “I’m going in.” 

Ikrie’s eyebrows jumped high on her forehead. “You’re going to stab it?” she demanded. The Stormbird was tied down, sure, but those claws looked incredibly dangerous at close range. 

But Aloy shook her head. “Not stab it,” she replied. “Just watch!” She ran towards the bird with her spear in hand, then slid into place beside the bird and jammed the back end of her spear into a port on its leg. 

Ikrie’s jaw dropped. Somehow she hadn’t imagined that Aloy was planning to override the monstrous machine. She watched in amazement as Aloy grimaced with the effort of holding her spear steady. 

One of the ropes on the Stormbird’s left wing suddenly broke with an ominous _twang_ , and a spike of fear jolted through Ikrie’s chest as she lifted the ropecaster again. “ _Aloy!_ ” 

“It’s okay!” Aloy shouted back, and a few long, tense seconds later, Aloy’s face cleared, and she pulled the spear from the machine’s leg and rose leisurely to her feet. 

Ikrie’s gaze flew to the Stormbird’s metal face: its eyes were a deep and peaceful blue. 

She watched in wordless awe as Aloy gracefully racked her spear on her back, then strolled over to the Stormbird’s left wing and began cutting the ropes one by one with a sharp knife. Slowly, as though in a dream, Ikrie approached the bird as well. 

Aloy finished cutting the last rope on its left wing just as Ikrie reached her side. She smiled and handed Ikrie the knife. “Want to do the honours for the right side?” she asked. 

“Sure,” Ikrie said automatically, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Aloy. The flame-haired huntress seemed positively tiny under the Stormbird’s wing. Her chin was confidently high, her fists resting with satisfaction on her scantily clad waist as she smiled up at the huge machine, and the contrast between her relative physical vulnerability and her ferocity of spirit was such a beautiful image that Ikrie felt frozen in place. 

Finally she forced herself to turn away and swiftly cut the ropes tying down the Stormbird’s right wing. Immediately the bird flapped its freed wings twice then lifted and lowered each of its feet, but it was no threat; it almost seemed to be stretching after its brief period of captivity. 

Ikrie walked back over to Aloy’s side as the Stormbird lowered its head as though to scan the ground. The Nora huntress reached up and patted the tip of its metal beak with a smile. “Take to the skies,” she whispered. “You’re free.” 

The Stormbird flapped its wings once more then launched off of the ground, and Ikrie squinted against the dust before turning to admire Aloy again. The wild red ribbons of her hair lashed in the wind, and she lifted one arm to hold it back as she watched the Stormbird rise into the sky. When she finally turned to grin at Ikrie, her smile was a breathtaking expression of pure joy. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The Stormbird really is a force of nature.”

Ikrie couldn’t reply. She gazed at Aloy in mute adoration for a moment, then couldn’t resist: she stepped close and slid her hands into the flaming tresses of Aloy’s hair. 

She pulled Aloy against her body and kissed her hungrily, then lost her breath as Aloy immediately pressed into her chest and curled her fingers around the back of her neck. Their kiss was a mess of hands and tongues and nipping lips, but Ikrie didn’t mind one bit. She was drunk on Aloy’s ardour, her head spinning as she savoured the feel of her Nora lover’s smooth body under her fingertips. Images swirled behind her closed eyelids, the briefest but most stunning flashes of Aloy’s face and the many sparkling sides that they revealed: her stern frown of justice, the tilted eyebrows of her empathy, the crumpled face of her grief and the parted lips of her passion. With every eager stroke of Aloy’s tongue and every tantalizing nip of her teeth, the powerful pressure in Ikrie’s chest rose higher and higher like a geyser about to burst.

When they eventually pulled apart, Aloy broke into breathless laughter. “I take it you’re impressed with the Stormbird, then?”

Ikrie breathed hard for a few seconds, then finally expelled the words that were bubbling at the back of her throat. “I love you,” she blurted. 

The humour immediately melted from Aloy’s face and was replaced with a look of unguarded surprise. Ikrie watched with a fresh surge of adoration as Aloy started to stammer a reply, her cheeks steadily turning pink. “That’s - I -”

“No,” Ikrie interrupted. She pressed her forehead to Aloy’s and gently shook her head. These words were not ones that Ikrie gave out lightly; she had only ever said them to one other person, and she didn’t want to hear them returned out of obligation. She only wanted to hear them back if they were unequivocally true. 

“Don’t say anything,” Ikrie whispered. “I don’t need you to say anything. I just need you to know that I love you.” 

Aloy’s fingers clutched convulsively at the back of her shirt, and Ikrie tilted Aloy’s chin up with one finger and kissed her gently. It was a light and soothing brushing of the lips, a wordless reassurance that there was no expectation or pressure here - nothing but truth. 

When Aloy’s tense fingers finally loosened into a relaxed embrace around her waist, Ikrie gently pulled away and smiled. “Okay, fire hunter,” she whispered. “Where to next?”

Aloy slowly opened her eyes, and Ikrie’s heart skipped a beat at the glowing heat in her gaze. The Nora huntress took a deep breath before replying. “It’ll be dark soon,” she said. “We could make camp, set out for Meridian in the morning?” 

Ikrie nodded as she reluctantly released Aloy from her embrace. “Exactly what I was thinking.” 

Aloy’s easy grin lifted her heart even higher, and she grinned back as they jogged toward their Striders. Moments later they were cantering toward a riverside campsite that Aloy knew about, joking back and forth in the waning light of day as they usually did. 

Ikrie smiled fondly as Aloy made some wisecrack about the size of a Carja’s vest and the size of their ego. Maybe it was too soon to talk about love after just a month or so, but Ikrie didn’t care. She hadn’t felt this close and comfortable with anyone in years. 

As they slid off their Striders and began setting up their bedrolls with the seamless routine of longtime travelmates, Ikrie also realized that she’d never felt more at ease in her own skin than she had in the past few weeks. She didn’t have to hold her feelings in check for the sake of propriety, and she didn’t have to hide her own skills for someone else’s comfort. With Aloy, she had no reservations about just being herself. 

And if that wasn’t love, Ikrie didn’t know what was. 

************************

Late that night, Aloy lay awake with her arm around Ikrie’s waist and her cheek tucked against her Banuk lover’s back. They had set up the tent despite the heat, both of them wanting the privacy that the small shelter afforded. They’d lain in the tiny tent idly talking until Ikrie had fallen asleep mid-sentence, and Aloy simply lay enjoying the easy cadence of Ikrie’s breathing and the gentle rise-and-fall of her ribs. 

Aloy closed her eyes and thought back to Ikrie’s admission of love that afternoon. A jolt of exhilaration hopped in her belly, like a little fish-leap of joy, and she smiled giddily to herself. Nobody had ever said those words to her before. Not even Rost, with his self-sacrificial but misguided wish to keep her an arm’s length away. Aloy had also never said those words to anyone; after Rost had died, there had been no one that Aloy would consider saying them to.

But now, Ikrie lay tucked in the circle of her arms with their fingers laced together, as trusting and accepting in sleep as she was during the day. Now, Aloy had someone she could talk to about serious things and silly things and everything in between. She had someone she could hunt with as a true equal, and someone she could cry in front of without fear of being seen as weak. 

Ikrie didn’t know everything about her yet, but Aloy wasn’t afraid anymore. Ikrie had shown day after day that she was okay with Aloy exactly as she was. In many ways, the freckled huntress’s words of love didn’t change anything between them, but somehow Aloy felt irrevocably altered from hearing those simple words from her partner’s lips. 

She snuggled closer to Ikrie’s back and inhaled the mild, sweet scent of her hair. She swallowed hard and pressed her forehead to Ikrie’s back.

 _I love you too,_ Aloy thought. She had no experience saying these three simple words, but as Ikrie would say, practice makes perfect. 

She would silently rehearse this powerful phrase while Ikrie slept. And when the right moment came, Aloy would be able to look her Banuk lover in the eyes and say it perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month, ya'll! xoxoxo


	13. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: NSFW smut. I had to do some research for this one so please let me know what you think? *nervous*

Aloy winced as she pricked her finger with her bone needle. She swore softly to herself as she checked her finger - _no blood_ \- then resumed mending her sleeve with a little more attention.

It was just past sunrise, and Ikrie was still asleep. Aloy’s smitten gaze was continuously drawn to the delicately darkening constellation of freckles on her face and the endearing tufts of hair falling over her forehead. As she admired the Banuk huntress’s beauty, she mentally berated herself for deciding to stitch up her torn Nora tunic when she could be snuggled up to Ikrie instead. These early-morning and late-night moments with her Banuk partner were the times when Aloy felt most safe and relaxed: the rest of the world was quiet and still, and it sometimes felt like she and Ikrie were the only two people left on earth. 

Once they were in Meridian, surrounded by the overwhelming press of people and the abundance of sights and sounds for Ikrie to enjoy, their opportunities for precious time alone would swiftly dwindle. Aloy knew they wouldn't stay in Meridian for very long - both she and Ikrie were wanderers at heart, after all - but Aloy couldn’t help but harbour a selfish little wish to put off their foray into Meridian for another day or two. 

A minute and another pricked finger later, Aloy finally gave up on her mending and shuffled quietly over to the bedrolls. Just as she lay down on her side, ready to slide an arm around her sleeping lover’s waist, Ikrie sighed softly and rolled onto her back. A crooked little smile lifted the freckled huntress’s lips. “Hey,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “How long have you been up?”

Aloy glanced vaguely at the tent flap. “Less than an hour. You slept in,” she teased. 

“Hah. I blame you for not waking me.” Ikrie grinned and leisurely stretched her arms, and Aloy watched hungrily as the thin cotton of Ikrie’s shirt slid across the subtle peaks of her nipples. The hem of the cotton shirt rose slowly above her waist, revealing the snowy expanse of her belly.

Aloy quickly tore her gaze away, feeling vaguely as though staring was impolite. She shifted to her knees and began to crawl toward her provisions pouch in the corner of the tent. “Are you hungry? I’ll grab the-”

Ikrie reached out and took her wrist in a gentle grip. “Hey,” she said, her voice already sounding more awake, and Aloy turned back to face her.

Ikrie studied her in silence for a moment, then a slow smile lifted the corner of her lips. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You can look.” 

Aloy swallowed and lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Yes you do,” Ikrie whispered. She squeezed Aloy’s wrist gently, and finally Aloy lifted her gaze to Ikrie’s face. 

Ikrie’s eyes were bright and hot like copper fresh from the forge. Without breaking her gaze or her grip on Aloy’s wrist, she slowly slid her other palm over the paleness of her own belly. 

Her slender fingers gathered in the hem of her thin cotton shirt before slowly pulling the shirt up, up over her navel and the edges of her ribs, then over the gentle swell of one perfect dusky-tipped breast. She released Aloy’s wrist, then arched her back and lifted her shoulders slightly to pull the shirt over her head in one smooth motion. 

She lightly tossed her shirt aside as she settled comfortably on her back, and Aloy _stared_ , her inhibitions firmly wiped away by the reveal of Ikrie’s nakedness. The Banuk huntress’s body was a landscape in and of itself, a pristine canvas of dips and curves all coated in a layer of alabaster skin, and Aloy wondered for the umpteenth time what her perfect skin would look like when kissed by the sun. 

She took in the delicate lines of Ikrie’s collarbones, the smooth muscles of her arms, the perfect tidy swell of her petite breasts, and the slowly accelerating rise and fall of her ribs. Just when Aloy’s palms were itching to do more than just look, Ikrie spoke again.

“You can touch me.” Her voice was low, quiet, and more persuasive than any suggestion Aloy had ever heard. “I’m yours.”

Aloy needed no second bidding. Without hesitation, she reached out and gently smoothed her palm over Ikrie’s belly. 

The muscles of her abdomen tightened slightly under Aloy’s palm, and Aloy smiled at the anticipatory parting of her lover’s lips. Slowly and carefully she smoothed the tips of her fingers along the lines of Ikrie’s ribs, the dip just below her sternum, the gentle curving swell of her breast. 

Ikrie arched her back tilted her head back entreatingly, but Aloy only smiled and continued her delicate exploration of her Banuk partner’s skin. She gently slid her fingertip along the line of Ikrie’s collarbone, into the tiny dip at the base of her throat, down the tender slope of her breast to the very edge of her nipple.

Ikrie arched more insistently toward her touch and took hold of her wandering hand with a convulsive grip. “Please,” she whimpered. 

A rush of adoration and lust stole Aloy’s breath for a moment, and she inhaled deeply to counter the surge of heat in her blood. The Banuk huntress offered herself with such a candid lack of restraint. Her acceptance of Aloy was evident in this wanton display of her half-naked body, and the combination of her beauty and her trust was so potent it was nearly unbearable. 

Aloy leaned over and gently caressed the side of her Ikrie’s breast with her lips. Ikrie gasped and pressed her chest insistently towards her lips, but Aloy refused to give in; her Banuk lover’s flesh was soft and warm, and she wanted to enjoy it here in this tiny secluded tent while she still had the chance. She nuzzled the underside of Ikrie’s breast until she was squirming, then finally gave in and rolled Ikrie’s right nipple carefully between her fingers.

Ikrie gave a tiny sob of pleasure, then a soft cry of delight as Aloy abruptly took her nipple in her lips and suckled firmly. Ikrie’s fingers slid into Aloy’s hair to cradle the back of her neck. “Sweet winter, _yes_ ,” she panted, then interrupted herself with a gasp of pleasure as Aloy palmed her left breast. 

Aloy swirled her tongue over Ikrie’s nipple, but her attention was swiftly being drawn to the shifting of Ikrie’s slender hips. She was lifting her pelvis in tiny eager movements, and finally Aloy released her lover’s nipple and crawled down to kneel between her legs. She slowly peeled back the bedroll cover and trailed her fingers along the edge of Ikrie’s waistband. 

“I want to taste you,” she suggested. This curious urge had been tapping at the back of her mind ever since Ikrie had brought her to a shattering peak with her tongue between her thighs, and Aloy was more than eager to return the favour.

She watched in satisfaction as Ikrie clenched her fists in the fabric of the bedroll. “Yes,” Ikrie blurted. “Yes, please, I-”

She broke off into wordless panting as Aloy carefully unlaced her thick thermal pants, then pulled them down over her hips. Aloy eyed the apex of her lover’s thighs with a combination of anticipation and curiosity. She knew what Ikrie liked with her fingers, but would she be able to achieve a similar effect with her mouth?

Gently she smoothed two fingers over the sheen of moisture between Ikrie’s legs, and before Ikrie could do more than gasp out a gentle whimper, Aloy lowered her face and imitated her partner’s move from the day before: she carefully smoothed her tongue along the length of her cleft. 

Ikrie cried out and jerked her hips toward Aloy’s face. Pleased and reassured by her reaction, Aloy pushed her thighs further apart and tilted her head to gently lap her lover’s slick folds, then slid her tongue higher to press the tiny nub of Ikrie’s clit.

Ikrie arched her back fiercely, her hips lifting gracefully toward Aloy’s curious mouth, and Aloy had to force herself not to smile smugly as she swirled her tongue over Ikrie’s swollen nub. Ikrie’s pleasure was uninhibited and obvious, and there was something pleasantly powerful about this position, this feeling of kneeling over her lover’s supine body and giving her even a fraction of the pleasure that she’d received the day before. 

Ikrie panted hard, then reached down and lightly stroked Aloy’s jaw. “Gentle, gentle,” she panted.

Immediately Aloy drew back slightly in alarm. “Sorry,” she said. “Did I hurt you-?”

“No,” Ikrie gasped. She gently stroked Aloy’s chin. “Don’t stop,” she whimpered. “Keep going, I - I don’t want you to stop. Just a little less pressure.” 

Instantly Aloy understood. She lowered her face again to the juncture of Ikrie’s thighs; then, instead of using her tongue, she brushed her lower lip against Ikrie’s swollen nub.

Ikrie jolted. “ _Yes_ ,” she keened, then trailed off with a desperate whimper as Aloy continued the gentle stroking of her lip over Ikrie’s clit.

Gradually and slowly, Ikrie’s hips began to rise against her face with rising urgency, and Aloy met and matched the wordless plea: the light, careful stroking of her lip gradually became a gentle lapping of her tongue, then a more firm circular licking around the periphery of Ikrie’s sensitive swollen bud. Ikrie’s fingers twined in her hair in a gentle tug, her breaths coming short and sharp as the frame of her thighs tensed against Aloy’s cheekbones; then, with a great gasp and a cry, she jerked her hips firmly towards Aloy’s mouth. 

Aloy carefully ran the flat of her tongue along the length of Ikrie’s cleft up to the hood of her clit. Ikrie arched her back viciously and shoved her fist against her mouth, and Aloy had to suppress another satisfied smile; if she wasn’t mistaken, her first tasting of her Banuk lover had been a success. 

Eventually Ikrie shuddered and lowered her hips back to the bedroll, then loosened her grip on Aloy’s hair. Aloy lifted her face, and Ikrie lightly stroked her cheekbone. “Come here,” she groaned. 

Aloy surreptitiously wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, then rose to her knees and followed Ikrie’s guiding hands until she was straddling the Banuk huntress’s naked hips. Ikrie squeezed her thighs and gazed up at her, her normally pale cheeks flushed with pleasure. “You sure you’ve never done that before?” she quipped breathlessly. 

Aloy grinned and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She felt bold and confident, proud of the pleasure she’d given her freckled lover, and she couldn’t help but preen a little bit. “I did learn from the best,” she replied saucily.

Ikrie laughed with genuine appreciation. She smoothed her palms along the length of Aloy’s bare thighs until her fingers grazed the edges of her smallclothes. “A quick learner, you are. In the mood to try something new?” she murmured. 

Aloy inhaled deeply at the feel of Ikrie’s fingers along her inner thigh, then gasped as the tip of her lover’s fingers slipped beneath the leg of her smallclothes to graze the edge of her tender folds. “When have you ever known me to turn down a challenge?” she breathed.

Ikrie grinned, her eyes glittering with heat. She tugged gently at the edge of Aloy’s smallclothes. “Take these off,” she instructed. 

Aloy hurriedly obeyed Ikrie’s command, then straddled Ikrie’s hips anew. Ikrie immediately reached between Aloy’s legs and smoothed two fingers along her cleft. “Mmm,” she purred. “Good morning to me.” 

Aloy couldn’t reply; the breath instantly seized in her lungs at the mere touch of her raven-haired lover’s slender fingers. Ikrie chuckled, then began to slide her fingers in a slow, firm rhythm along the moisture of her cleft. 

Aloy moaned in frustration; Ikrie’s stroking fingers were careful and teasing, shying purposely away from her clit. Every torturous touch was like a spark on the tinder of her desire, stoking her desperate want ever higher without satisfying her. Aloy leaned back and braced one hand on Ikrie’s thigh, then undulated her hips greedily toward Ikrie’s hand.

The movement of her hips finally brought her throbbing clit in contact with Ikrie’s fingers. An exquisite ripple of sensation rolled from her core out to the tips of her fingers and the back of her throat, and Aloy moaned with helpless rapture.

“That’s it,” Ikrie purred. Her voice was low and persuasive, and Aloy forced her eyes open as she rolled her hips toward Ikrie’s hand. “You’re torturing me on purpose?” she panted. 

“It’s for your own good, I promise,” Ikrie assured her. She smiled wickedly. “Keep riding, fire hunter. Show me what those hips can do.”

Aloy inhaled shakily at the sensual growl in her lover’s voice. She hadn’t heard Ikrie sounding like this before, but her voice was resonant like the looming of thunder on the horizon, and Aloy couldn’t resist the call; she closed her eyes again and rode the rising wave of pleasure coaxed by Ikrie’s clever fingers.

A delirious minute later, Ikrie gently tapped her right thigh. “Sit up for a second,” she murmured. 

Aloy whimpered in dismay; she felt dizzy with desire, her hips pistoning smoothly against Ikrie’s fingers, and she didn’t want to stop. Then Ikrie gently withdrew her fingers, and Aloy was forced to follow Ikrie’s suggestion in a desperate attempt to regain the pleasure of her touch. 

Ikrie shifted her left leg out from under Aloy’s hips, then shuffled beneath Aloy’s body until Aloy was straddling only her right thigh. She reached up and gently took hold of Aloy’s hips, then tilted her pelvis at a certain angle. 

Aloy’s eyes flew down to the juncture of her thighs - no, the juncture of _their_ thighs, for her groin was now poised directly over Ikrie’s raven curls. 

A fresh surge of eagerness rushed over her at the blunt intimacy implied by this new position, and her gaze flew up to Ikrie’s face. Ikrie was watching her with an expression of intense tenderness, and a thread of nearly painful adoration suddenly tugged at Aloy’s heart, mixing with the lust in her veins until she wondered if she might drown under the onslaught of her feelings for the woman beneath her. 

Ikrie reached for her hand, and Aloy eagerly laced her callused fingers with her lover’s smooth and slender ones. “Keep riding,” Ikrie whispered. 

Her voice was soft and coaxing, and Aloy was helpless to do anything but obey. With Ikrie’s other hand on her hip for guidance, she carefully tilted her pelvis until her aching heat smoothed over her Banuk lover’s slick center. 

Aloy gasped and convulsively clenched her fingers with Ikrie’s. The grinding of their bodies afforded a light and gentle friction against her clit, and there was something both arousing and oddly reassuring about the solidity of Ikrie’s smooth thigh between her legs. She eagerly rolled her hips over Ikrie’s slippery groin a second time, and before she could take a breath, before she could comment on how much she liked this slick sliding friction, Ikrie was lifting her hips, Aloy was pressing down to meet her, and suddenly they were fucking in a storm of undulating hips and tensing thighs.

Aloy gasped desperately for breath as she levered herself against her lover. Everything she and Ikrie had done thus far held its own breathless sort of magic, a playful back-and-forth of giving and taking, but _this_ \- this intimate rolling grind, the smooth collision of their hips, the clenching of their fingers and the sheer naked presence of her beautiful Banuk lover - this all felt incredibly reciprocal. At this moment, this dizzying moment of heat and breathless surging pleasure, there was no one else in the world except her and Ikrie and the tangible mutual need that bound them together. 

Broken little moans were shuddering from Aloy’s throat, but she couldn’t stop the sounds. Ikrie’s palm was pressed firmly against hers, giving her leverage to rub her tender bud more firmly against Ikrie’s slick heat, and all at once the roiling buzz of pleasure between her legs burst like a lightning storm. She cried out helplessly as lights sparked behind her eyes and spread down to the tips of her fingers and toes.

Ikrie squeezed her fingers. “Kiss me,” she demanded.

Aloy was more than happy to comply. She bent over and cradled Ikrie’s neck in her palm before taking her lips in a hard and messy kiss. When Aloy broke the kiss to pant fitfully against her lips, Ikrie smiled serenely and circled her waist in the shelter of her alabaster arms.

Without breaking from the freckled huntress’s embrace, Aloy shifted until she was straddling Ikrie’s hips again, then fully relaxed her weight on Ikrie’s chest with exhausted abandon. She buried her face against Ikrie’s neck, and Ikrie laughed breathlessly as she ran her fingers through Aloy’s hair. “That good, huh?”

Aloy nodded silently, unable to find the words for a suitable reply. Ikrie’s touch was incredibly soothing, a gentle palm smoothing her back while the fingers of her other hand carefully teased the tangles from her hair, and Aloy wished more ruefully than ever that they could stay in this tent for another day. No, another week. A month, perhaps… 

Ikrie sighed contentedly as she stroked Aloy’s back, and Aloy felt the vibration of her lover’s happiness through her ribs. She inhaled softly, absorbing the warmth and the fragrance of the Banuk huntress’s alabaster skin. 

Some time later, Ikrie gently tapped her back and lifted her left hip, and Aloy reluctantly rolled off of her lover’s slender body until they were lounging on their sides facing each other. Ikrie smiled and brushed Aloy’s unruly hair away from her shoulders. “Should we get moving? It’s pretty late in the morning now.” 

Aloy opened her mouth to agree, but the words wouldn’t come. Ikrie was so damned lovely, a perfect image of beauty carved from ice and shadows, and Aloy couldn’t bear the thought of sharing her with the rest of the world just yet. 

She shuffled close and slid her thigh between Ikrie’s legs. Her palm smoothed up and over the curve of Ikrie’s waist to play across the dusky peak of her nipple, and Ikrie’s eyelids fluttered shut with all the delicacy of a butterfly’s wings. 

Aloy slowly pressed her knee higher to graze the apex of her lover’s thighs, then gently nuzzled her nose. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Let’s stay a little while longer.” 

Ikrie exhaled shakily and nodded her head, and Aloy smiled. Ikrie might be a quick learner, but she wasn’t the only huntress in this tent who was eager for new knowledge... And Aloy would happily use her newfound skills to press her advantage.

********************

“Hey. Your mouth is hanging open.”

Ikrie closed her mouth and punched Aloy in the arm. “Shut up,” she said, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning at Aloy’s little snicker. “You can’t blame me for staring. This place is...” She trailed off and shook her head in wonder as she gazed at the view. 

They had arrived in Meridian early that afternoon, and Aloy had invited Ikrie to lead the way as they wandered through the city. Ikrie had delightedly taken her up on the offer, leading her Nora partner through winding alleyways and drifting through the marketplace with the teeming crowds. They’d spent almost an hour watching the various entertainers in the market square, and Ikrie had earned some serious shards by trading one of the pristine Bellowback lenses that she and Aloy had collected during their hunts. When they got hungry, Aloy had recommended some of the local delicacies, and then promptly laughed her head off at Ikrie’s reaction to the extremely spicy Carja fried chickpea patties.

Now, as the sun made its graceful descent into the bed of the jungle, they strolled along the bridge that led from the city proper into the Sun-King’s palace. Ikrie had forced herself not to comment when the Carja guards permitted Aloy passage to the private bridge without question. Ikrie still didn’t know exactly why Aloy had left the Nora’s lands in the first place, or how she was on such familiar terms with the Sun-King that she could come and go from the palace as she pleased, but she was feeling confident that her questions would all be answered soon, especially now that they were here in the heart of things. 

Ikrie slowed to a stop and leaned her elbows on the gilded railing of the bridge. From this height, they could see most of Meridian sprawled beneath them with its proud peaks and angles, and the gradual fade into green as the buildings melted into the jungle beyond. “You’ve gotta cut me some slack. I’ve never seen a… a city, any city, anything at all this… grand.” She fell silent for a moment to drink in the vibrant jewel tones of the jungle. “You didn’t just sit around marvelling at this place when you first arrived?” she asked.

She glanced over at Aloy and felt a pang of dismay: the redhead’s jocular expression had faded, and her arms were folded as she looked at the view. Aloy shrugged. “When I first came here, it was under… urgent circumstances,” she said. “I didn’t have time to enjoy it. Not at first. Eventually I did, but not at first.”

Her face was the stern mask of the steely-eyed Nora huntress Ikrie had met so many months ago, and Ikrie instinctively reached out and stroked her arm. 

Aloy’s shoulders relaxed visibly at her touch, and she loosened her arms so Ikrie could take her hand. They stood in silence for a long moment, their arms brushing together comfortably as they admired the view. 

“Tell me why you came to Meridian,” Ikrie said softly. 

The blunt request slid from her lips before she quite realized she was going to say it, but once it was out in the air, Ikrie realized she was glad she couldn’t take it back. She’d never asked Aloy so frankly about her history before, but if there was ever a time to ask why Aloy had come to this city, it was here at the Sun-King’s doorstep.

Aloy released a soft, weary sigh and leaned into Ikrie’s arm. “It was after the Proving massacre. I told you Helis came for me - I’ll tell you why a bit later,” she said quickly, before Ikrie could comment. “Anyway, I was injured, and the Nora took me into their sacred mountain. Remember I told you they worship a door?” 

Ikrie nodded, and Aloy continued, “That door is what the Nora call the All-Mother’s Womb. And they’re kind of right. It’s a Cradle - one of the places where the first generation of humans was made. And that’s where the Nora matriarchs found me when I was a baby. The door never opened again after they found me there. But then they brought me there when Helis almost killed me, and for the first time in eighteen years, the door… um… it spoke.” 

“Huh?” Ikrie blurted. 

The corner of Aloy’s lip lifted with a hint a humour, and Ikrie smiled in response. Aloy laughed awkwardly and tugged one of her braids. “Yeah,” she muttered. “It was just a machine voice. The voice said the door was, umm, it was locked. Except the lock was, uh… I guess you could say it needed two keys. I was one of the keys, but I didn’t know _why_ I was a key, and neither did the Matriarchs. And the other key was missing. That’s why I had to come here.” She waved her arm vaguely at their surroundings. “The outlander who gave me away to Helis was from the Sundom, so I had to come here to find answers.” 

Ikrie nodded slowly and forced her face to not look as gobsmacked as she felt. A Cradle in the Nora’s sacred mountain with a machine voice… was that machine voice different from the machine spirit that Aloy’s scholar had made? And how could a person be a key, especially without knowing they were one?

“That’s…” Ikrie trailed off lamely, unsure exactly how to respond without making herself sound stupid. Then she glanced at Aloy. The Nora huntress’s face was blank again, but her shoulders were slightly hunched as though she was expecting to be struck.

Ikrie’s heart squeezed with sympathy, and she passed a warm squeeze to Aloy’s hand. “That’s a huge and elaborate excuse to go travelling,” she finally said. “Next time just tell the Matriarchs you need a holiday.” 

Aloy stared at her for a second, then suddenly released a burst of laughter. Ikrie grinned in relief as the redhead’s mirth washed her tension away. “Thanks,” Aloy eventually said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She chuckled again, then elbowed Ikrie gently. “You’re crazy.”

“Well, you know what they say. Great minds think alike,” Ikrie said grandly. “If I’m crazy, then you are too for hanging out with me. We’ll just be crazy together.” 

Aloy ducked her head shyly and grinned. “Uh-huh. Come on, let’s keep going.” She stepped away from the railing and led Ikrie along the bridge toward the palace, and Ikrie bit back a smile; Aloy’s fingers were still twined in her own. 

They walked in silence for a while, and then Aloy spoke so softly that Ikrie almost missed it. “Thanks,” she murmured. 

Ikrie tilted her head quizzically. “For what?”

Aloy shrugged awkwardly. “For… this.” She squeezed Ikrie’s hand lightly. “For being… normal with me. I don’t know.” She shrugged again and fell silent. 

Ikrie tenderly squeezed her hand in return. “Don’t thank me yet,” she quipped. “I’m crazy, remember? Can’t predict what I’ll do next.” 

Aloy smirked, but her eyes were serious on Ikrie’s face, and Ikrie softened. She released her Nora lover’s hand, then slid her fingers into her flame-red hair and pulled her close to kiss her on the forehead. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s meet this Sun-King Avad. I hope he’s as glowy and golden as his title sounds.”

Aloy grinned. “You’ll see.”

*********************

“ _Aloy!_ You’re back!”

Ikrie recoiled slightly as a huge and enthusiastic Oseram warrior thundered toward them. His grin was as huge as his baby-blue eyes, and his arms were outstretched as though to sweep Aloy up in a hug. 

Ikrie watched as the Oseram seemed to restrain himself right before reaching them, and finally he greeted Aloy with a friendly clap to the shoulder. “You’re back,” he repeated happily. “How was the frozen north?”

“It was great,” she said. She darted a quick heated glance at Ikrie, and Ikrie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling as Aloy ushered her forward. “Erend, this is my partner Ikrie. We met during my time in the Cut. This is her first time in Meridian.” To Ikrie she explained, “Erend is the Captain of the Vanguard - the Sun-King’s personal guard.”

Erend’s grasped her forearm in an enthusiastic squeeze. “Ikrie, huh? Welcome to Meridian. How did you guys meet? Did Aloy drag you into some kind of crazy hunt out there in the snow?”

Ikrie laughed. “The opposite, more like. I was all ready to go up against a pack of Scrappers and a bunch of Glinthawks on my own when she dropped in and tried to steal my kills.” 

Aloy shot her a quick grin, and Erend guffawed and slapped Aloy on the back. “Sounds like our girl. A Hunter of the Lodge through and through, this one. Never miss an opportunity to set a machine on fire, do you?” 

“That’s where I come in,” Ikrie chirped. “A little ice to cool those flames. What else is a partner for?”

Aloy rolled her eyes. “You two are fast friends already, I see,” she drawled, but her lips were curved in a lovely smile, and Ikrie couldn’t resist reaching out to playfully pinch her bare waist.

Aloy smiled widened at the pinch, and Erend tilted his head fondly. “Aww, look at you,” he said. “Fire and ice travelling the world. Team Hailfire, the pair of you.” Aloy blushed and rolled her eyes again, and Erend chuckled and patted Ikrie amiably on the shoulder. “Come on, Avad will want to know you’re here. He’s still in the pagoda, but he’ll be wrapping up soon. You guys got here right on time.”

Erend chattered enthusiastically to Aloy as he ushered them to a sheltered seating area furnished with simple but elegant divans. Ikrie watched warily as a well-dressed young man served them chilled fruit juice. His clothes and facepaint were so elegant that it took Ikrie a long moment to realize that the young man was a servant. 

Shortly after the servant departed, another handsome young man approached. The delicate tattoos at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Aloy,” he said with a graceful bow. “It is good to see you. I’m glad the Sun deigned to bless you with safe travels.” 

Ikrie studied him curiously. He was so young, and he seemed so humble. But he wore an opulent silken stole and an elaborate sun-shaped crown-headdress-thing, so this must be…

“Avad,” Aloy said. She’d risen to her feet to greet the Sun-King, and now she rested a solicitous hand on Ikrie’s shoulder. “This is Ikrie, my partner. We’re travelling the Sundom together. This is her first time in the south.” 

Avad smiled at her and bowed respectfully. “Anyone that Aloy holds in esteem is a friend of mine as well,” he said. “Welcome to the Sundom.” 

“Thank you,” Ikrie said. She was at a bit of a loss. Avad wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Based on the tales she’d heard, her imagination had conjured a bold and towering warrior with a halo of sunlight around his head. The Sun-King seemed to be… just a nice, normal man. 

He seated himself gracefully beside Erend’s muscular bulk. “Tell us of your travels,” he invited. “I have never seen the frozen wilds of Ban-Ur. Did you discover many wonders?” 

Aloy huffed with amusement. “I guess you could say that.” She glanced at Ikrie. “Scorchers,” she said succinctly. 

Ikrie barked out a laugh. “Right, Scorchers. A great wonder of the wild north. Perfect for burning away the cold. The key word there being ‘burning’.” She and Aloy snickered together. 

“Scorchers? What’s a Scorcher?” Erend asked, and the two women laughed again before Aloy launched into an abbreviated explanation of what Scorchers were and where they came from. Ikrie listened quietly to the abridged tale; Aloy had told her about Thunder’s Drum and the machine spirit CYAN in detail, but she was interested to note the details that Aloy omitted in her telling to Erend and Avad. She spoke of CYAN as though the machine spirit was a simple malfunctioning piece of equipment, and she didn’t mention that she’d taken control of Aratak’s werak. In fact, Aloy largely minimized her role in the destruction of the Cauldron at Thunder’s Drum, sticking largely to a passive recounting of the events there. 

When the tale was told, Avad leaned forward, and Ikrie could finally see something kingly in his stern expression. “This HEPHAESTUS entity is worrisome,” he said. “I have no wish to see a repeat of the Battle of Meridian. Should we prepare for another attack?” 

Erend shifted forward as well, his face intent and serious, and Aloy shook her head. “Not right now,” she said cautiously. “I mean, you should always be prepared. You are, you are, I know,” she hastily added as Erend opened his mouth in protest. “But I don’t think the threat is… imminent,” she finished. “I’ll let you know when I learn anything more.” 

Avad inclined his head regally. “As always, I am in your debt.” He sat back with a soft sigh. “Danger aside, it sounds as though you made many new discoveries, Aloy. And new friends as well,” he added, with a respectful nod to Ikrie. “I’m happy for you. I know how highly you value fresh knowledge and perspectives.” The Sun-King’s voice was warm and a little bit wistful, and Ikrie wondered if he ever got to travel anywhere. From the looks of his elegant but impractical clothing, she was fairly sure the answer was a resounding ‘no’.

Aloy shot him a small smile of acknowledgment, and Erend clapped his hands jovially. “So! You guys are here for a couple days or what?” He playfully pushed Aloy’s shoulder. “We should have drinks! Come to the tavern, bring your girl out to meet my men!”

“Vanasha is in the city as well,” Avad piped up. “I’m sure she will want to see you. Perhaps you can spare an evening to join us here at the palace? I will ask Marad to arrange a small dinner - the four of us, Vanasha, the Sun-Hawk if she can spare the time…”

Ikrie watched with painful fondness as Aloy subtly shied away from the two men’s enthusiastic invitations. She tugged a braid and shifted slightly closer to Ikrie. “Maybe,” she hedged. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here. I’ll… we’ll let you know.”

Ikrie subtly placed a supportive hand at the small of Aloy’s back as Erend seemed to deflate. “Where are you two headed next?” he asked. “You gonna take Ikrie back to the Nora lands?” 

“No,” Aloy said immediately. Ikrie suppressed the little jolt of disappointment in her belly as the Nora huntress frowned slightly at Erend. 

“Why?” Erend said in surprise. 

Avad delicately cleared his throat. “Erend,” he said quietly, but Erend ignored him. “I thought you’d want to take your girl home to meet the family!” he said.

Surprise made Ikrie sit up straight. _Family?_ she thought. She shot Aloy a startled look, but Aloy was busy glaring at Erend. “I don’t have any family,” she gritted. “You know that.” 

Erend waved his hand impatiently. “You know what I mean - Varl and Sona and that Teb guy. You brought Ikrie to meet _us_ \- don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered and all - but why wouldn’t you want her to meet them too?” 

“Erend,” Avad said in a warning tone, but he needn’t have bothered: it was too late, and Aloy was incensed. “It’s none of your business, that’s why,” she snapped.

“Hey,” Ikrie said. She reached for Aloy’s hand, but Aloy shrugged her off with a scowl. “You don’t want to go to the Sacred Lands,” she said authoritatively. “The Nora are... They’re close-minded and ignorant. They hate outlanders. They’ll try to drive you off! They won’t even give you a chance. It’s - they - trust me, you don’t want to go there.” 

“Maybe I do,” Ikrie blurted. Aloy’s face immediately fell in shock, but Ikrie suddenly realized that she couldn’t back down. She was happy to travel with Aloy, happy to see the world with the woman she loved, but Ikrie was starting to feel like she was just following her Nora lover around. She’d fallen into old habits, allowing her partner to largely call the shots about their day-to-day travels, and it was a slippery slope she didn’t want to tumble down again. Things had not ended well when she’d unequivocally prioritized Mailen’s wishes above her own.

But it was more than just their travels. Ikrie had allowed Aloy to keep her secrets for long enough. The Nora huntress was guarded, shielding herself from the eyes of people who only wanted to know her better. Erend and Avad’s concerned faces were proof of that. Ikrie thought of Petra’s maternal affection and the unequivocal welcome they’d received from the Scars of the North. These people all _liked_ Aloy, wanted to know her and spend time with her, and Ikrie couldn’t see anything wrong with that.

She firmly took Aloy’s rigid fingers in her own. “Aloy, I want to know where you came from. See the place that made you who you are. The people who helped to shape you.”

“The only person who helped to shape me is _dead_ ,” Aloy snapped. “I can’t believe…” She trailed off as she caught sight of Erend’s stricken face, then suddenly rose from the divan. 

“I’m going to the Hunter’s Lodge,” she announced, then directed her next sentence at Ikrie. “I’ll be back later. Avad will keep you company. I just… I’ll be back.” 

Aloy wouldn’t look at her. Ikrie’s pounding heart was in her throat, and she swallowed hard around the lump as she rose to her feet. “Aloy-”

“I’ll be back,” Aloy insisted. She glanced at Ikrie briefly - just briefly enough for her to see the vulnerability in her redheaded lover’s eyes - then she turned on her heel and stalked away. 

Ikrie stared after the Nora huntress’s departing back, and Avad sighed. “Erend, how many times…”

“She’s always so touchy!” Erend said defensively, and Ikrie instantly knew this was an argument they’d had many times before. He looked plaintively up at Ikrie. “We’ve known her for almost two years,” he said. “You’d think she’d loosen up a little bit by now, but you bring up some topics with her and _boom_ , she closes up more tightly than a Snapmaw’s jaws.” He sighed and eyed Ikrie mournfully. “We still barely know anything about her, you know. She comes and goes from the city, does something extremely useful for a few people, and then she leaves. What’s wrong with hanging around for a while? Telling us a little bit about herself?”

“It would help if you could ask her questions with a little more tact than a raging Behemoth,” Avad said pointedly. “I count myself fortunate that Vanasha and Marad are my diplomats and not you.” 

Erend flushed. “Hey, I did just fine that first time I went to the Sacred Lands. It’s not my fault that insane Helis guy attacked the Nora.” 

Ikrie whipped around to stare at him. “ _You_ were one of the outlanders who went to the Sacred Lands before the Proving?” 

Erend gazed up at her in surprise. “Yeah. Didn’t Aloy tell you? That’s how we first met.” 

Ikrie rubbed her face, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. All these mysteries and secrets, pieces of the story coming out like loose pages from an outlander’s book - it was too much. She needed to hear the whole story _now_ , and she refused to get any more of it from anyone except Aloy. 

She dropped her hands and gazed at Avad. “Where is the Hunter’s Lodge?”

The Sun-King twisted his lips worriedly as he rose to his feet. “I would give her some time,” he said apologetically. “Aloy is a very solitary soul. Sometimes she just needs a moment alone. I am certain she’ll be back; she always comes back when she says she will.” 

An image of Aloy’s pained expression flashed across Ikrie’s mind. She could picture the Nora huntress sitting alone somewhere, stewing in her own thoughts until they curdled, and the thought made her stomach hurt. “No,” she said firmly. “She’s had enough time alone.” She thought of Tulemak’s words, of the way that old hurts scarred and faded with time. But the wounds on Aloy’s heart had never truly healed, and Ikrie was convinced that the only way they would ever fade was if Aloy let them breathe. 

She stared boldly at Erend and Avad. “Will you take me to the Hunter’s Lodge?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Small cliffhanger ending! Oh noes!!  
> I know, I know, my update schedule has gone off the rails, and I'm sorry - I honestly can't say anymore when my updates will come - but the next chapter is plotted out, if that is a comfort to anyone... 
> 
> xoxox


	14. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: NSFW smut. It was unplanned this time. Our girls got carried away. :3

“... we’re standing in that patch of grass for two seconds, Ikrie, I swear it wasn’t more than that, and she picks up a blood trail with that Focus of hers. Leads us straight into an ambush, but then she takes down a Sawtooth with barely a lick of help from yours truly.” Erend waved his hands enthusiastically as he led Ikrie through the market toward the Hunter’s Lodge. “Next thing I know, she’s telling me that Ersa might not be dead - that the bodies mighta been switched!” 

Erend raised his eyebrows at Ikrie in amazement, and Ikrie smiled encouragingly at him. Truth be told, she wished he would talk about something else, particularly because this story was yet another one she hadn’t yet heard from Aloy herself. But she didn’t have the heart to ask Erend to stop his tale. She could tell his garrulousness was partly motivated by guilt for spurring Aloy’s expedient escape from the palace that evening. 

“So I haul my ass back to the palace to examine the body, and of course she’s right. It wasn’t Ersa.” He shook his head in admiration. “That girl is always right, I tell you. And it’s not all thanks to that Focus, either. Got a mind like an Oseram steel trap.”

Ikrie smiled fondly. “She sure does,” she agreed. 

Erend smiled down at her, and Ikrie elbowed him amicably as they picked their way through a crowd of Carja and Oseram watching a fire-eater. “So you were able to save Ersa, then? That’s great.”

Erend’s face fell. “Oh. Uh, no. She, uh, she didn’t make it.” 

Ikrie stopped and stared at him in dismay. “Wait. What?”

Erend gently spurred her forward with a hand on her back. “Yeah. We found her where that scumbag Dervahl was keeping her locked up. But she was too hurt. We were just barely too late to help her,” he said softly. He offered a half-hearted smile and a shrug. “But Aloy gave me the chance to say goodbye. That’s… It’s no small thing.”

“Yeah,” Ikrie whispered. Helping people say goodbye seemed to be something that Aloy was good at. She’d helped Ikrie let go of Mailen. She’d helped the Scars of the North to let go of Ban-Ur altogether. She’d clearly helped Erend through his grief as well. 

But Aloy had never allowed anyone to support her in the same way - not until Ikrie had come along. 

_And I’m not letting her sit alone to stew with this,_ she thought with fresh determination. She picked up her pace slightly, and Erend fell into step beside her. 

Erend quickly recovered from his momentary melancholy, telling Ikrie about the discovery that Dervahl had hidden blazebombs in a warehouse in Meridian, and how he and Aloy had mitigated the impact of the bomb. By the time they reached the Hunter’s Lodge, Erend had finished describing how Aloy had saved both him and Avad from Dervahl’s sonic attack, then destroyed a pack of Glinthawks and a handful of Dervahl’s best men with little more injury than a few patches of frostbite and some cuts and scratches. 

“So that’s how she earned your tribes’ respect,” Ikrie mused thoughtfully.

“No,” Erend said firmly. “That’s how she earned our friendship. And we are her friends, hey? Me and Avad especially. I mean, I might be a lunkhead, and Avad worries too much, but… ah, I dunno, Ikrie.” He shrugged helplessly. “We might not know her as well as we should, but we are her friends.”

She punched his arm gently. “I know. You don’t have to tell me.” 

Erend graced her with a wry smile, then scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Well. Anyway. You go on in. Tell her we’ll be waiting when she wants to give us a minute of her time, will you? Or maybe even two.” He smiled to himself, then turned away.

Ikrie took hold of his arm. “Listen,” she said, and he turned back to her with a curious blink of those big blue eyes. “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry about Ersa,” she said softly.

Erend dropped his eyes and shrugged. “Ah, that’s okay. It was a while ago.”

Ikrie shook her head gently. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. It still hurts. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t.” 

An unguarded flash of vulnerability crossed Erend’s face like a bolt of lightning. Then he quickly recovered a smile. “I get why she loves you,” he said, then chuckled. “Team Hailfire, the two of you. Go on, Ikrie. We’ll see you around.” He gave her a hearty pat on the back, then walked away.

Ikrie replayed his parting words with a tiny jangling feeling in her chest: _I get why she loves you._ Ikrie genuinely didn’t need to hear Aloy say it; it mattered more that Aloy meant it, if and when she said it at all. But there was a tender and easily-injured part of Ikrie’s heart that hoped Erend was right.

Finally she turned to gaze up at the Lodge. Cheerful Carja music and warm lantern-light emanated from its open doors, giving the building an aura of welcome, but Ikrie couldn’t help but feel nervous as she made her way up the steps. 

She instantly spotted a number of Banuk wanderers milling around the bar, and despite herself, some of the tension left her shoulders at the familiar sight of her tribesmen’s quilted armour and geometric prints. At least she wasn’t the only foreign one here. In fact, she thought as she looked around, it seemed that the patrons of the Lodge were a true mixed-bag of tribespeople - not unlike the rest of the city itself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a warm and elderly voice. “Another lady of the ice, I see. Welcome to the Hunter’s Lodge.”

Ikrie turned to the owner of the voice: an older man with tattoos like Nil’s, but a smile that was much warmer and less bloodthirsty. Ikrie nodded a greeting. “Good evening,” she said politely. 

The man bowed slightly. “I am Ligan, the steward of the Hunter’s Lodge. And you have the appearance of a huntress who is searching for someone.” He tilted his head quizzically. 

_Do I really look that clueless?_ Ikrie thought with amusement, but she was grateful for the help nonetheless. “Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m looking for Aloy. I heard she was here?”

Ligan nodded, then pointed to the stairs. “You will find the Nora Hawk on the upper level with Sun-Hawk Talanah.”

Ikrie smiled her thanks, then made a beeline for the stairs. The upper level was quieter than the lively environment of the main floor, and as much as Ikrie liked the music on the lower level, she breathed a sigh of relief at the relative peace. 

It took her a few moments to pick out Aloy’s usually-distinctive hair from the multitude of red-and-orange draperies and hangings in the dimly-lit upper level. A jolt of nerves jumped in her belly as she made her way over to the couches where her Nora partner was seated with a beautiful dark-haired Carja warrior.

Aloy caught her eye, and Ikrie’s chest ached at the guarded look on her partner’s face. Aloy stood at Ikrie’s approach, and the beautiful woman followed suit. Ikrie instinctively reached for Aloy’s hand as she drew near, and she was more relieved than she cared to admit when Aloy accepted her touch. 

“Ikrie, this is Talanah,” Aloy said with a respectful gesture to her dark-haired friend. “She’s the Sun-Hawk of the Hunter’s Lodge. Basically the boss around here,” Aloy said. 

Talanah laughed. “And proud of it. Best to do the job yourself if you want it done properly, wouldn’t you say?” She nudged Aloy with a friendly elbow. 

Aloy smirked. “Talanah, this is Ikrie, my partner. This is her first time in Meridian.” 

Talanah’s eyes widened. “No kidding? Well, welcome to the Hunter’s Lodge! If you fancy joining our illustrious ranks, let me know. I’m sure Aloy would be willing to sponsor you as a thrush.” She raised her eyebrows playfully at Aloy. 

Ikrie smiled and shrugged uncertainly. “Sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Talanah widened her eyes at Aloy. “You haven’t told her about the Lodge?” Aloy shook her head ruefully, and Talanah’s eyes widened further. “Tell me you at least told her about Redmaw.”

Aloy winced, and Talanah groaned before turning to Ikrie. “You’re missing out, outlander. Aloy has failed to tell you the best story of all! How much time do you have?” She gestured eagerly for Aloy and Ikrie to sit. 

Ikrie flinched slightly as Talanah’s words unintentionally salted her wound, and Aloy frowned. “Actually, Talanah... I’m going to show Ikrie the balcony. We’ll catch up later, maybe?”

“Of course,” Talanah said immediately, and nodded amicably to Ikrie as she moved away toward the stairs. 

Finally they were alone, and Ikrie noticed painfully that Aloy wouldn’t quite look her in the eye. “Aloy-” 

“Let’s go outside,” Aloy interrupted softly. She released Ikrie’s hand as she led her out to the balcony. The darkness of the balcony was softened by the myriad candles scattered around what seemed to be a memorial of some kind. 

Despite her uneasiness, Ikrie studied the memorial with a stirring of curiosity. “Who is this for?” 

“Talanah’s brother and father,” Aloy replied. “They died in a machine massacre sanctioned by the Mad Sun-King.” She gazed at the flickering candles with a distinct air of melancholy. “Another person who lost her whole family.” 

Ikrie frowned in sympathy, then gently took Aloy’s hand again. Aloy twined her fingers with Ikrie’s, and they gazed at the memorial in silence for a moment.

“The Nora barely acknowledged his death,” Aloy said eventually, and Ikrie instantly knew she was speaking of Rost. “They buried him, gave him a proper gravestone, but… He’s all the way out on the mountain where he raised me, so far away from the rest of the tribe.” Out of the corner of her eye, Ikrie watched as her partner’s jaw clenched in the quixotic candlelight. “He loved the tribe more than anyone. He honoured their ways more than anyone. He was Nora to a fault. And still, even after he’s dead, they wouldn’t take him back.” 

“Aloy…” Ikrie started, but Aloy turned to face her with a fierce expression. “You don’t want to go to the Sacred Lands,” Aloy insisted, but her statement was more brittle this time, and Ikrie could hear the slight tremor in her voice. “Some of the Nora are okay. The people Erend mentioned, they’re okay. But the rest of them, the Matriarchs, they… they ask and they take, and they reject people, and it’s just…” Her fingers tightened convulsively between Ikrie’s. “I don’t want you involved in that. I just don’t.”

Ikrie gently brushed her knuckles across Aloy’s cheek. She could feel the tension in Aloy’s cold fingers. She could see the vulnerability hiding behind the ferocity of Aloy’s green-and-golden eyes. 

“Aloy, I need you to tell me the rest of your history,” she said softly. “Tell me why Helis came for you at the Proving. I want to hear all of it.” There would be a time for Ikrie to make her case for visiting the Sacred Lands, but it wasn’t now. Now was the time to listen. 

Aloy took a deep breath, then released it heavily and ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay,” she said. She released Ikrie’s hand and tapped her Focus, then swiped her fingers smoothly through the air while speaking. “Remember I told you Helis and his men tried to kill me because of a case of mistaken identity? They thought I was someone else.” She paused and tapped at the air for a moment, then removed her Focus. She hesitated for one second, then offered it to Ikrie. 

Ikrie stared at Aloy, stunned at the intimacy that this gesture seemed to imply. She had never seen Aloy remove her Focus before. 

The corner of Aloy’s lip curled in a very slight smile. “Here,” she said, then reached up and brushed aside the tuft of hair by Ikrie’s right ear before gently positioning the Focus in place. Aloy took a breath, then sharply exhaled before tapping the Focus. 

Ikrie jumped slightly as an image made of light suddenly appeared in front of her. She instinctively turned away from the brightness of the memorial in order to see the image more clearly as it began to speak in a terse voice. Once she realized what she was looking at - or rather, who - she frowned in rapidly deepening confusion. 

It was Aloy. Or was it? The clothes were wrong, and the hair was wrong, but the face - it was undoubtedly Aloy’s face. It was Aloy’s voice. But it wasn’t…? 

If Ikrie hadn’t known better, she would have wondered if it was Aloy’s mother, but Aloy didn’t have a mother.

She turned to Aloy in utter bemusement. The motion of her head brought the holographic image in line with its flesh-and-blood counterpart, further deepening the sense of same-but-not-at-all. 

“This is… it’s you…?” Ikrie asked uncertainly.

Aloy shook her head, and her face was indescribably sad. “No,” she said. “That’s Elisabet Sobeck.”

************************

Aloy leaned her head back on the divan with a sigh and closed her eyes. She’d been talking non-stop for almost two hours, interspersed with Ikrie’s gentle questions, and her voice was feeling quite hoarse despite the plentiful water that Ligan had been sending up from the bar downstairs. 

She turned her head to the side and looked at Ikrie, who was curled attentively beside her with her cheek propped on her fist. “So yeah. That’s it, I guess,” Aloy finished lamely. “HADES is destroyed. HEPHAESTUS is still loose and could keep making new aggressive machines if it re-overrides the Cauldrons that _I_ already overrode.” She rubbed her face with both hands. “GAIA is still quiet, but now that I’ve met CYAN and I know it’s possible to restore an artificial intelligence… I mean, the problem isn’t the same - CYAN was trapped while GAIA exploded her core… ugh, I don’t know. I think I can fix it, though. But I have to-”

“Hey,” Ikrie said suddenly. She took hold of Aloy’s wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her face. “How urgent is this? The problem with GAIA?”

Aloy closed her eyes again and tried to relax as Ikrie smoothed her thumbs across her palm in a gentle massage. “Urgent? Uh… it’s not urgent, really. It’s just-”

“Okay,” Ikrie interrupted gently. “So take a breath. Let’s keep on just travelling around and taking our time. GAIA will be there when we’re done with our vacation.” Ikrie’s voice held a slightly jocular note, and despite her slight headache, Aloy smiled.

But it was more than Ikrie’s teasing tone that made her smile. It was the ‘we’ in her words - the easy assumption that the Banuk huntress would be by her side once she set her mind to trying to restore GAIA. 

The two women sat in a thoughtful silence for a while as the mellow strains of late-night music floated up from the lower level. Finally Ikrie spoke, and her voice was as gentle as the circular rubbing motion of her thumbs. “The amount of travelling you did in a single year… that must’ve been exhausting.”

Aloy let out a tired laugh. “Yeah.” She’d enjoyed her explorations when she had the time to think about everything she was seeing and learning, but the circumstances of her travels could have been less… well, horrible.

Ikrie smoothed her fingers along the inside of Aloy’s arm in a soothing caress, and Aloy sighed as she relaxed into her Banuk partner’s touch. “And you did all that travelling all on your own…” 

Aloy shrugged slightly. “Of course I did. It’s not like there was anyone to come with me.” 

Ikrie paused for a moment before speaking again. “Did you ever ask anyone to come anywhere with you?”

Aloy opened her eyes and frowned. “Like who? Who would I ask to come travelling with me?” 

Ikrie’s eyebrows were tilted, and Aloy frowned more deeply at the sympathy in Ikrie’s expression. “Well, Erend, for one,” Ikrie replied. “He’s really fond of you. I’m sure he would have liked to travel with you, if you asked.”

Aloy pursed her lips in annoyance and took her arm back from Ikrie’s slender fingers. “He has a job. He can’t travel,” she said bluntly, then muttered, “Besides. He’d probably spend the whole time asking for favours.” 

Ikrie tilted her head quizzically. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that’s what everyone does!” Aloy snapped. She sat up straight on the divan. “The first time I met Erend, he tried to make a pass at me. The second time I met him, he begged me for help. And honestly, that’s what pretty much everyone has been like. If it wasn’t one thing, it was the other. Usually it’s both.” She pinned Ikrie with an almost accusatory stare. “You’re the only person who’s never asked me for anything.”

Ikrie was quiet for a moment, her eyes lowered as she nibbled the inside of her cheek, and Aloy folded her arms and waited tensely for Ikrie to respond. When Ikrie lifted her eyes again, her dark hazel eyes were understanding, but her words put Aloy further on edge.

“You have a point. That’s definitely what Erend and Avad and all of them _used_ to be like. What about now, though? Do they still ask you for help?”

“Yes!” Aloy said, then took a breath to control the volume of her voice. “I’m constantly helping Avad, bringing him information and news about stuff that’s happening in different parts of the Sundom. That’s what our relationship is! He asks for help, and I give it.”

Ikrie’s face was practically dripping with sorrow now, and Aloy glared at her, but her forbidding expression didn’t deter the freckled huntress. “If you really think that’s all they think of you - that you’re just a useful person who helps - then why do you keep coming back? Why visit Meridian if you think they’re just… using you?”

“Because it’s what Rost would have wanted!” Aloy yelled. She breathed hard through her nose, then in a calmer voice she intoned, “‘The strength to stand alone is the strength to take a stand.’ It was the last thing he taught me. And sure, I’m not in the Sacred Lands, but Rost would have wanted me to help people. Even if it just means finding someone’s stupid lucky ring inside of a dead boar’s gullet, or fetching machine blood for a weird shaman, or-”

Ikrie shifted closer and took Aloy’s hands. “Avad and Erend didn’t want your help tonight, though,” she said. “They didn’t want to have dinner with you because they want your help. They didn’t ask about our travels because they need something from you.” 

The Banuk huntress’s voice was even and calm, but Aloy was feeling anything but; she couldn’t quite unclench her fists in Ikrie’s hands, and Ikrie’s usually soothing voice just served to make her feel more tense. “Erend and Avad consider you a close friend,” Ikrie continued. “They feel bad that they don’t know you better, considering how long you’ve known each other.”

Aloy huffed in disbelief and shook her head, but Ikrie wasn’t finished. “Petra didn’t ask anything of you when we visited,” she insisted quietly. “She just wanted to chat. The Scars of the North didn’t ask for anything when we ran into them. Even Nil didn’t ask anything - well, I mean, he asked you to hunt bandits with him, but that seems like his weird way of trying to hang out.” Ikrie offered her a tiny smile. “It’s not like he really needs the help killing people.”

But Aloy wasn’t amused. She pulled her hands from Ikrie’s grip and folded her arms defensively, but Ikrie only moved closer. She took Aloy’s face in her hands until Aloy had no choice but to meet her gaze. “The people we met, the people _you_ introduced me to - they really like you, Aloy. Your relationships might have started out with them needing your help, but that’s not the case anymore. They just want to know you, and I don’t blame them.” Ikrie gazed intently at her. “Would it really be so bad to let them in?”

She stroked her thumb lightly along Aloy’s cheekbone, and to Aloy’s horror, she felt the burn of tears at the back of her throat. She shirked away from Ikrie’s hands and moved away. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “How can you be so… okay with people? After what you’ve been through? Mailen turned away from you, and you knew her your whole life. She told me she was your only friend, and even after everything you went through for her, she left you! How can _you_ say that people are trustworthy?” 

Ikrie recoiled slightly, and Aloy snapped her mouth shut and immediately wanted to slap herself. Ikrie’s gaze dropped to her hands, and Aloy watched in agony as Ikrie’s expression melted into sadness. 

Aloy clenched her jaw, torn between her lingering anger and a desperate wish to apologize, but Ikrie raised her face before she could speak. “You’re right,” she said simply. “I don’t have any good reason to think people are trustworthy. But… I don’t know. I just hope for the best, I guess.” She gave Aloy a tiny smile, but the melancholy in her smile just made Aloy’s chest hurt. “It brought me this far, at least.”

Guilt writhed in Aloy’s belly like a rabid Rockbreaker, and she reached out and took Ikrie’s shoulder. “Ikrie…”

Ikrie shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat about this. I just…” She trailed off, then met Aloy’s eyes again. “You’re a tough one to thaw, Aloy. But when that ice does melt…” She shrugged and smiled again. “You take my breath away, that’s all. Others should be so lucky.” 

Aloy stared at her Banuk lover, stunned and overwhelmed by her casual delivery of such passionate words. Ikrie felt lucky to know _her?_ She’d never known anyone as kind and generous and bloody _patient_ as Ikrie. Anyone else would have lambasted Aloy for the cruel things she’d just said. Hell, Aloy wanted to lambaste herself. And yet here Ikrie was, cool and calm and just as accepting of Aloy’s bad behaviour as she was of everything else Aloy had told her tonight.

Aloy had told Ikrie _everything_. The fact that she was a replica of a woman who had been dead for a thousand years; that she’d been born in order to save the world from the destruction of a machine intelligence; that the Nora had left the Sacred Lands for the first time to fight by her side. And Ikrie had taken all of this unbelievable information in stride. She’d marveled, and she’d asked incisive questions, and she’d delighted Aloy by spitting a string of inventive insults about Ted Faro’s intelligence (or notable lack thereof). It was crystal clear that Aloy’s past had changed nothing of Ikrie’s feelings… and how did Aloy repay Ikrie’s acceptance but to spear her right in the most tender part of her past?

Aloy swallowed hard. Regret and adoration and confusion warred in her belly, but it felt like her heart was lodged in her throat, stopping her from speaking. Finally Ikrie sighed, then rose from the divan. “I’m pretty tired,” she said softly. “I’m going to go back to the Palace. Just… think about what I said, okay?” 

Aloy nodded dumbly, still unable to find her tongue. Ikrie gave her a small half-smile, then briefly stroked her cheek and walked away to the stairs. 

Aloy sat silently for a few long, interminable minutes. Then she heard the sound of soft footsteps coming up the stairs. She turned hopefully toward the sound, but was mildly disappointed to see that the approaching figure was Talanah.

“I saw your partner leaving,” the Carja huntress said. She sat beside Aloy and slung her arms comfortably along the back of the divan before shooting her a curious look. “You’re not leaving with her?”

Aloy took a deep breath and stood. “Yeah, I am,” she said firmly. “I’ll see you later, all right?” 

Talanah smiled and nodded as Aloy slid around the low table and made her way toward the stairs. “Sure. Bring her back before you leave, though. I’d love to get to know the huntress who turned the head of our Nora Hawk.” 

Aloy paused at the top of the stairs and looked at Talanah. The Sun-Hawk’s gaze was friendly and open and free of expectation, and Ikrie’s words echoed through her mind: _they just want to know you, and I don’t blame them._

Well, Ikrie was a part of her now. And if they wanted to know her, they would know Ikrie as well. She nodded to Talanah. “I will,” she promised, then ran down the stairs and out of the Lodge.

******************

Ikrie took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes on the hem of her shirt. She idly glanced around the palace guest room that she and Aloy had been assigned. The room was enormous and opulent, hung with gauzy draperies and filled with a bunch of furniture that Ikrie hadn’t seen before. Under normal circumstances she would have loved to poke around, but she just wasn’t in the mood for exploring right now. 

Another tear ran down her face, and she wiped it away. She still couldn’t decide if her crying was an overreaction or not. It wasn’t like she and Aloy were in a serious fight; this felt nothing like those horrible times with Mailen, those times when she’d practically begged for Mailen’s affection and gotten only scorn in return. And it wasn’t like Aloy wasn’t coming back. Ikrie was certain Aloy would appear at the palace eventually. But she couldn’t shake the hurt feeling that seemed to swell and press at her sternum.

Maybe Aloy had a point. Maybe she _was_ too optimistic. After all, that hopeful optimism had led her to shadow Mailen’s footsteps for so many years, and that had certainly not worked out for the best. Ikrie knew now that she couldn’t just prioritize her partner’s wishes at the cost of her own, but it seemed she hadn’t learned the lesson fast enough. 

She choked out another little sob and mopped her face on her sleeve, then tried to distract herself by thinking back on what Aloy had told her earlier that evening. Now that Ikrie had had some time to process it all, she wasn’t sure why Aloy had been so worried about sharing all the details. The truth of Aloy’s single progenitor was strange, but not nonsensical. Babies usually looked like a mix of their parents, so it made sense that if Aloy only had one parent, she and that parent would look exactly alike. Ikrie also knew Aloy had been dreading telling her about the reason she’d been born - _made_ , in Aloy’s words, though Ikrie disagreed - but in all honesty, that wasn’t the part that stunned Ikrie the most. 

What Ikrie found stunning was that Aloy had managed to do so much without significant support from anyone. And this, in Ikrie’s opinion, explained so much about Aloy’s closely-guarded nature.

She regretted probing Aloy so aggressively about the issue, though. If she’d been gentler, then Aloy wouldn’t have felt so attacked, and maybe Ikrie wouldn’t be sitting on the floor of this huge lonely guest room all by herself. 

Another tear scalded its way down her face. Then she heard a knock on the door. 

She hastily wiped her cheek and rose to her feet. “Just a minute,” she called. She hurried over to the basin of cool water that a palace servant had decanted earlier that night and quickly rinsed her face, then opened the door.

Aloy stood in the doorway looking faintly sheepish, but her face fell as she met Ikrie’s gaze. “Were you crying?” she demanded. She took Ikrie’s hand and walked her into the room, then closed the door behind them. 

“Just a bit,” Ikrie said. She gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “It’s all this ice in my Banuk soul. It’s melting in the heat, right? It’s got to have an outlet somewhere-” 

“Ikrie,” Aloy pleaded. She reached up and cradled Ikrie’s neck in her hands, and Ikrie wilted with relief as the Nora huntress pressed the comforting solidity of her body against Ikrie’s front. 

“I’m so sorry,” Aloy said. “I was an ass. I shouldn’t have said that thing about Mailen. It was completely uncalled for. I wish I could take it back.”

“It’s okay,” Ikrie said immediately. Aloy’s hands were warm on her neck, her body warm and pliant in Ikrie’s arms, and her melancholy was washing away with every happy beat of her heart. 

Aloy shook her head, her brows creased in a fierce frown. “No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said it. I should’ve… Ikrie, I love you,” she blurted. 

Ikrie’s eyes widened in surprised delight as Aloy continued to talk. “I love you, and you shouldn’t say mean stuff to people you love. But I’m not very good at that. At the not-saying-mean-stuff thing, I mean. It’s no excuse though,” she babbled, and Ikrie grinned as her partner’s cheeks started turning as red as her hair. “I lose my temper sometimes, and it’s… not pretty. I just mean… I’m sorry.”

Ikrie pressed her forehead to Aloy’s. “I love you too,” she whispered. 

Aloy’s embarrassment swiftly transformed into a breathtaking smile, and Ikrie eagerly kissed her smiling lips. Aloy slid her fingers into her short tufty hair as she enthusiastically returned the kiss, and the bubbling joy in Ikrie’s chest was so potent that she almost laughed out loud.

Aloy’s fingers tightened slightly against her scalp. She took Ikrie’s lower lip between her own and gave a gentle pull, and Ikrie’s breath abruptly caught in her throat.

She slid her hands over the heated curves of Aloy’s waist, then splayed her palms on the taut planes of her lover’s bare belly. Aloy nipped her lower lip lightly with her teeth, pulling a helpless little gasp from Ikrie’s throat. 

Suddenly the Nora huntress’s fingers were gathering the hem of Ikrie’s shirt. Ikrie stepped away slightly so Aloy could pull the shirt over her head, then Aloy was pressed against her again, the pleated lines of her Carja vest bringing abrading Ikrie’s nipples and bringing them to attention as Aloy’s palms slid firmly up along her back to cradle her bare shoulder blades. 

Aloy pressed a kiss to Ikrie’s cheekbone, then to the edge of her ear. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered, and her heated voice sent a cascade of delicious ripples down Ikrie’s spine. “I’m... I was stupid. Will you-?” 

Ikrie kissed her firmly to cut off any further words. Aloy’s fingers tightened against her back, then slid down to pull her hips close. A long, breathless moment later, Ikrie leaned away and began tugging at Aloy’s sash and pouch belt. 

“I’m sorry too,” she breathed. “I didn’t mean to jump on you like that, about Erend and Avad and all of them.” Aloy’s belt and tassets hit the floor with an unceremonious clatter, and Ikrie began clumsily unbuckling her partner’s vest. “Will you forgive me?” She slid an impatient hand up and into Aloy’s cropped silk blouse.

“Of course,” Aloy gasped. She arched the hardness of her nipple into Ikrie’s palm, then gripped the back of Ikrie’s neck again and pulled her in for a kiss. 

The next few minutes were silent but for the whisper and clatter of fabrics and light armour hitting the ground. Aloy’s lips were hot against her neck, her hands equally hot as they roamed across Ikrie’s hips and back and belly, and Ikrie panted with dizzying joy as her flame-haired lover walked her back toward what she assumed was the bed, based on its size and dominating position in the room. 

Aloy pushed her down onto the bed, and Ikrie was briefly distracted by how springy it was: _very_ different indeed from her usual sleeping arrangement of bedroll or furs on the snow-padded ground. She pressed her palms experimentally into the mattress. “So this is a bed, huh?”

Aloy’s eyes widened. “Fire and spit, I forgot. You’ve never seen one, have you?”

Ikrie shook her head. “It seems… soft. Is this really comfortable to sleep in?”

Aloy smirked and pushed lightly on her shoulder, and Ikrie obligingly slid back as Aloy crawled onto the bed between her legs. “You’ll find out soon,” she teased.

Ikrie laughed breathlessly, but her mirth was cut off by Aloy’s heated lips. Aloy gently pressed her flat onto her back, her fingers twined in the short hair at her nape and her knees gently easing Ikrie’s thighs apart. 

Ikrie broke the kiss with a gasp as Aloy’s other hand trailed over her collarbone and down over her breast. Her callused thumb played lightly across Ikrie’s nipple, and she arched pleadingly into Aloy’s touch, then whimpered with delight as Aloy released her hair and lowered her face to capture her nipple between her lips. 

The wet heat of Aloy’s mouth on her nipple was bliss, but her teasing hand on Ikrie’s inner thigh was torture. Ikrie arched her back and spread her legs in a shameless invitation, but Aloy only suckled her nipple harder, her palm firm and unmoving on her thigh.

Aloy slid her lips across her sternum to lave her other nipple with her tongue, and Ikrie keened in desperation. The privilege of Aloy’s mouth on her breast only served to enhance the taunt of the redhead’s fingers so close to her pulsing centre. 

Suddenly Aloy smoothed her fingers over Ikrie’s desperate heat. “Yes,” Ikrie whined, and twisted her fingers into the bedding. The slide of Aloy’s fingers was so smooth, her own slick arousal the perfect contrast for Aloy’s callused fingertips. Aloy played her fingers along the edges of Ikrie’s plump folds, then dipped one fingertip into the very tip of her entrance before sliding up to gently stroke her clit. 

The Nora huntress’s aim was spot-on, her fingers caressing her sensitive bud with the perfect degree of pressure as she continued to worship Ikrie’s breast with lips and tongue. Ikrie gazed blindly up at the ceiling, her mind totally blanked with euphoria as her hips moved instinctively in time with Aloy’s stroking fingers. With every gentle stroke and every nip of teeth, Ikrie’s climax began to build and strengthen like an avalanche, and all at once the avalanche rushed over her, a scintillating spill of pleasure that pulsed straight down to her toes and pulled an incomprehensible cry from her throat. 

Then Aloy was kissing her again, her tongue slipping into her mouth as her fingers slipped deep into Ikrie’s tight heat. Aloy curled her fingers carefully against Ikrie’s slick inner walls, and Ikrie arched viciously into her lover’s hand and released her renewed pleasure cries against her tongue. 

As her shuddering climax came to a blissful close, she pulled away from Aloy’s tempting lips and gently tugged her redheaded lover’s clever fingers away from her pussy. “Lie down,” she panted. “Your turn to enjoy the bed now.” She pushed herself up to her knees, then slid off of the bed. 

Aloy grinned as she lay back, then barked out a laugh of surprise as Ikrie grasped her thighs and hauled her down to the edge of the bed. “Woah!” she exclaimed. “Someone’s had a burst of strength.”

Ikrie knelt at the edge of the bed and pushed Aloy’s thighs apart. “This bed might be soft, but I’m not,” she retorted. Aloy laughed again, but Ikrie was thoroughly distracted; her attention was inexorably drawn to the appealing sight of the Nora huntress’s pussy, spread wide like a flower in bloom and generously painted with the nectar of her desire. 

Ikrie swallowed in anticipation then dove right in, enjoying the subtle salt of her lover’s musk on her tongue as she licked the length of Aloy’s cleft. Aloy twisted her hips slightly and moaned, and Ikrie reached up to hold her thighs still as she lapped hungrily at her wetness. She treated her lover’s folds to gentle teasing licks and savoured the little begging mewls that spilled from Aloy’s lips, then pressed an open-mouthed kiss right over her swollen nub. 

“Oh, _please,_ ” Aloy whined, and tried to twist her hips again, but Ikrie tightened her hold on her thighs and kissed her clit again: once more, twice more, a handful of gentle kisses until Aloy pounded her fists on the bed in frustration.

“Ikrie!” she cried out, and finally Ikrie gave in and swirled her tongue firmly around and over her lover’s clit until Aloy’s hips were grinding against her mouth. Together they hit a rolling rhythm, and Ikrie could sense Aloy’s rising climax from the tension in her legs, a trembling right at the juncture of her thighs where Ikrie’s thumbs were resting…

Aloy suddenly gasped and cried out, a visceral cry that seemed to rise from the depths of her sternum, and Ikrie had to force herself not to smile as she continued the careful ministrations of her mouth. A few moments later, as the tension eased from Aloy’s thighs, Ikrie felt gentle fingers slide into her hair. 

Aloy lightly tugged her hair. “Come back up here,” she moaned, and Ikrie happily complied, shuffling back onto the bed along with her redheaded lover until she was positioned on her side by Aloy’s supple supine form. 

“More,” Aloy demanded, and she gripped Ikrie’s hip and rolled her closer. Ikrie grinned as she followed Aloy’s guiding hands, and soon she was on her knees and straddling Aloy’s thigh. 

The flame-haired huntress’s eyes were hot and intent on her face. “I want you to ride me this time,” she said, and Ikrie had to force herself to breathe around the roar of blazing lust that spilled down her throat and into her belly. 

“Yes,” she gasped, and positioned herself over Aloy’s center. She rested one palm on Aloy’s ribs for support, then smoothed her slick folds across Aloy’s groin. 

They gasped together, and Aloy tightly twined her fingers with Ikrie’s free hand. Ikrie’s eyes were fixed on the juncture of their thighs, the joining point where they moved and slid together. She traced her fingers down from Aloy’s ribs to part her red-gold curls, revealing the swollen little bud of her pleasure, then tilted her hips slightly and rubbed herself more firmly against Aloy’s clit. 

Aloy’s fingers tightened between her own, and she arched her neck and lifted her hips with a groan. Ikrie braced her hand against Aloy’s ribs again and rocked against her, their slick heat melding and blending with every grinding meeting of their lower lips. 

Ikrie panted for breath as she rode her red-haired lover, her eyes sliding greedily over the warm and vivid shades of Aloy’s body: the undulating ripple of her golden skin as her hips rose to meet her own, the pebbled rose of her nipples, the enticing flush of her chest and cheeks as her fierce and lovely face twisted with pleasure. Ikrie drank it all in with the raging thirst of a desert traveller. The redheaded warrior was a magnificent sight, as fierce in this erotic arena as she was on the hunt, and Ikrie was completely enraptured by the sheer glory of her.

She changed her rhythm to roll herself over Aloy’s pussy in a slow and circular grind. Aloy clenched her fingers even tighter in Ikrie’s own and threw her head back with a pleading mewl, and Ikrie was visited with a fresh and dizzying flush of lust as Aloy’s spine bowed, inadvertently offering her rose-tipped breasts in a heady temptation. 

It was a temptation that Ikrie couldn’t resist. Without ceasing in her circular grind over Aloy’s heat, she slid her hand up from Aloy’s ribs to palm her breast, then pinched her nipple lightly. 

Aloy lips parted on a lovely little sob. “Please don’t stop,” she whimpered.

“Never,” Ikrie breathed. She squeezed Aloy’s fingers reassuringly as she undulated over Aloy’s groin. This slow and sensuous grind was pushing her own pleasure higher as well, a thick and heavy rapture that was slowly rolling from Ikrie’s core toward her limbs, and she forced herself to breathe evenly as her climax gradually gained strength. 

Aloy suddenly gasped, then released a guttural cry as she thrust her hips viciously toward Ikrie’s own. Ikrie pushed down with her hips, a careful sweeping tilt to gently draw out Aloy’s climax with the gentle brushing of her slick folds, and Aloy sobbed and writhed beneath her careful and tender touch.

Finally Aloy’s spine relaxed as her orgasm ebbed and eased. She opened her eyes, and Ikrie was momentarily arrested by the sheer force of affection in her gaze. Her eyebrows were slightly tilted, her eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile, and a warm flush of wellbeing and safety warmed Ikrie’s chest and throat at the look of complete peace on Aloy’s face.

The redheaded huntress gently peeled Ikrie’s hand from her breast, then interlaced their fingers so they were palm-to-palm with both hands. “Come on,” Aloy whispered. “Come with me.” She smiled slowly at Ikrie and squeezed her fingers, then slowly lifted her hips to press against Ikrie’s groin.

Ikrie nodded eagerly. Her climax was on the horizon, held back to give Aloy her pleasure but not at all diminished. With Aloy’s encouraging nod, Ikrie spread her thighs wider and pressed her clit more firmly against Aloy’s groin.

She rocked herself hard against Aloy’s slick heat, chasing a firmer grind of pressure, and Aloy obediently met her thrusts with the rising of her own hips. A long and delicious minute later, Ikrie gasped and shuddered as her rapture slammed over her in a wash of blinding light and warmth that spilled from her scalp clear down to her toes. 

She arched and shuddered over Aloy’s body as the spasms of pleasure convulsed through her calves. Then suddenly Aloy sat up, her hands on Ikrie’s waist as she rolled her onto her back. 

Ikrie fell back on the softness of the mattress with an _oomph_ of surprise, then grinned as Aloy stretched over her. Aloy laced the fingers of her left hand with Ikrie’s, and Ikrie stared into Aloy’s eyes in complete lustful abandon as Aloy’s right hand stroked the inside of her thigh and up to her slick and swollen folds. 

Ikrie mewled with pleasure as Aloy slid two fingers inside of her. Then Aloy’s lips were at her ear. “I love you,” she whispered. 

A fresh surge of joy filled Ikrie’s chest at her lover’s sweet assertion. Of all the things Aloy had told her today, all the truths she’d shared, this one was the best. 

She slid her fingers into Aloy’s hair, then turned her head until they were nose-to-nose. “I love you too,” she murmured. 

Aloy smiled and curled her fingers inside of Ikrie’s heat, and Ikrie gasped and arched with bliss. At this moment, this perfect melded moment of love and lust, Ikrie had no doubt that they were the happiest girls in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's hard to give up your cards  
> And show me what's underneath  
> We've all got our scars over our hearts  
> But that ain't gonna make me leave
> 
> 'Cause right now, I'm ready to love you  
> Right now, I'm ready to love you  
> We could put this thing to bed  
> We could get out of our heads 'cause  
> Right now, I'm ready to love you
> 
> [\- ”Ready to Love You”, by Hedegaard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSxrOXWUOuA)


	15. Epilogue

**One month later…**

Aloy took a deep, restorative breath, then exhaled slowly into the crisp and snowy air. 

Flakes of snow drifted through the sky on playful eddies of breeze. Aloy leaned her palms on the chilly bricks of the battlements and gazed pensively out at the view beyond Daytower’s gate. Steep rocky rises led into the small grassy expanse in front of the gate, and the grassy expanse itself boasted a handful of rusting machine corpses. One of these corpses was a Corruptor: the first Corruptor Aloy had ever encountered. 

She took another deep breath and forced herself to unclench her fingers. _It’ll be fine,_ she thought. _It’s been over a year since Helis and his men razed the Sacred Lands. And it’s just the two of us - just me and one outlander. It’ll be fine._

A soft but rapid fall of feet reached her ears, and Aloy relaxed as Ikrie bounded up the steps of the battlements to meet her, grinning from ear to ear. She was dressed again in her full Banuk gear, and Aloy already missed the sight of her short dark hair and her pale freckled skin.

_As soon as night falls,_ she reassured herself. Their travels continued to be a joy, and Aloy was doing her best to loosen up around the people she knew - her _friends_. But the moments when she and Ikrie were alone in their little tent were still the best ones. Those were the moments when everything was laid bare. They had no need for clothes, for the heat of their bodies was all the warmth they needed. Aloy had no need for the shield she’d borne around her heart, for Ikrie guarded her heart now. 

She smiled as Ikrie came to stand beside her, then pointed at the rusting remains of the Corruptor. “That’s the first Corruptor I ever killed,” she said.

Ikrie raised her eyebrows and leaned into Aloy’s arm. “Damn,” she said. “And you hadn’t even left the Sacred Lands yet.”

“Nope,” Aloy said softly. They stood in silence for a while, their eyes on the border of the Nora Lands as the wind teased Aloy’s hair and the fringe of fur along Ikrie’s hood. 

Then Ikrie’s cool fingers slid into her palm. Ikrie gently turned Aloy’s chin to face her, and Aloy drank in the warm reassurance in her Banuk lover’s gaze. 

“Are you ready?” Ikrie said softly. 

Aloy swallowed hard. In some ways, she would never be ready; no matter how many times she’d gone back to the Sacred Lands to help over the years, these lands would always be tainted for her, a reminder of the place where so many good people had died: Rost, Vala, Marea, even Bast. Aloy understood that it hadn’t been her fault, and she had Ikrie to forcefully remind her of this whenever she started to sink into self-recrimination. But that lingering feeling of responsibility had never quite gone away.

Ikrie squeezed her hand once more. Her deep grey-and-umber eyes were warm and filled with love, and Aloy took another deep and bracing breath. 

She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I’m ready. Let’s go meet the Nora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks shyly around the corner* Hey guys…
> 
> So I already know there are probably going to be some unhappy readers wondering why I’m not going on to write about Ikrie meeting Aloy’s Nora friends. The truth is that I don’t really want to drag this fic on beyond what feels to me like a natural wrap-up of the couple’s central conflict. For me, this has always been a story about Aloy and Ikrie, and not about everyone they know; the secondary characters are just that - secondary. Meeting all of Aloy’s peeps has just been a device to get to know Aloy and Ikrie and their relationship. I’m not interested in writing about our girls meeting _everyone_ Aloy knows just for the sake of it. 
> 
> If, however, someone out there is inspired to go on and keep writing about these two, that would be wonderful and amazing! And now that they’re an Established Relationship™, I can start writing the occasional smutty oneshot about them. HA. 
> 
> Big hugs and thanks to everyone who stuck with these two from start to finish! May you all be blessed by the Blue Light. 
> 
> Yours truly,
> 
> [Your friendly neighbourhood Pikapeppa xoxo](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/)


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